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ash5monster01 · 9 months

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Learning to Love Part 6

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x FemReader!PlusSize

Warnings: 18+, langauge, angst, fluff, mentions of bullying, body image issues, fat shaming, fake relationship, eventual smut, minor enemies to lovers trope.

Summary: It's not uncommon for you to be shamed for your size, it is however uncommon to be told that no one would ever date you because of it. Rafe on the other hand is used to being called a jerk, that is until he is accused of seeing people for only what's on the surface. It's purely coicidental you two meet right after these accusations are thrown your way. So even though you two don't know each other, and probably never would've looked the others way before this, now you're both going to prove a point. It's simple really, prove others wrong and don't fall in love. Easier said than done.

word count: 2.6k

Part 5 ←→ Part 7

Masterlist

Rafe had done a great job at avoiding Matt and Levi since dating you. He was afraid if they started asking questions he wouldn’t be convincing enough. Thing was he couldn't avoid them forever, which is proven true when the client he had met with abruptly left lunch early leaving the three men left to discuss more than just work. So Rafe is sat in the same position he was the day he met you, some beach club during lunch hours, bourbon in his hand, and two assholes sat across from him.

"I should probably get back to the office" Rafe says after one more sip of his bourbon, he had no plans to finish it. He hadn't really needed to numb feelings since meeting you.

"Woah, why such a rush? We have at least twenty more minutes" Matt says with a smirk and Rafe sighs. If he wanted to spend time with these two he'd still be an active member at the country club. He hated when Barry called him country club, he was trying to leave that life behind.

"Meeting is over, I have work to do" Rafe says and a low chuckle escapes Levi's mouth and reverberates into the rim of his whiskey glass.

"He just doesn't want us asking questions about his little girlfriend. Or should a say big girlfriend" Rafe's hand instantly tightens around his glass at Levi's words.

"That's right, Rafe has a new lady" Matt smirks, leaning back in his chair and Rafe does everything he can to not roll his eyes.

"You guys have no right to talk about her" Rafe says with a cold and sharp voice. The boys know they've gotten under his skin, struck a nerve with the hot tempered boy in front of them.

"Listen all we're saying is it's pretty suspicous you start dating big girl right after we say something about how you never date unattractive girls" Levi says leaning forward, his arms crossing over the table.

“Well that’s not the case” Rafe says leaning back, standing his ground. He had grown far too fond of you to let some bitter assholes say anything or assume anything. Even if they’re right.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say our Rafe here is using the poor girl to prove a point” the sentence makes Rafe stomach churn. Before he had gotten to know you that was the case and he hated how bad it sounded out loud.

“Well you never have known any better Matt and what do I have to prove to you two idiots?” and Rafe had a point. It never was about proving himself to these jack offs. It was to prove it to himself and anyone who ever saw the worst side of him and never thought he could come back from that. His sisters, his Step Mom, all those Pogues he harassed for so long. He had killed someone and it was a burden he had to live with every single day. The least he could do is start seeing people for more than what’s on the outside.

"Nothing, just a little weird you started dating a fatty" Rafe's hand slammed the bottom of his glass so hard on the table both boys jumped at the noise, wild eyes looking at Rafe who seemed far to calm for what he just did.

"Let's not forget who controls your employment status, on top of that you have no right to talk about my girlfriend and her size. Actually anyone’s size for that matter. Considering that it's coming from big nose and pimples over here" and both boys sit there shocked for a moment as Rafe stands, rebuttons his suit jacket, and heads to his truck where he can go back to work and not be bothered by those idiots. He should've fired one of them for the hell of it.

Yet he couldn't shake what they were both saying about you at lunch and they were right about one thing, he did have twenty minutes left. Actually he had all the time in the world left because he was the CEO, he'd pull a late night if it meant seeing you and getting whatever those idiots said out of his head. So his direction changed and he found himself pulling into the empty lot of the bar. He was actually surprised the doors were unlocked when he pushed through them and even luckier he was met with the sight of your back. You leaned over a table, wiping it down for the upcoming shift. You wore your usual outfit, jeans and a T-shirt, this time with the logo of your bar across the back in neon. The door slams shut behind him just as he begins admiring the curve of your ass.

"We don't open for another twenty minutes" you call out without turning and he grins, arms crossing over his chest.

"Damn, because I was really hoping for a drink now" he watches as you perk up to the sound of his voice and he's met with a wide smile when you turn around and face him.

'What're you doing here?" you grin and he chuckles, walking forward and spotting Mila and Randy who watch you both from the bar. Mostly because he wants to and the audience you have, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close.

"Had some time left on my lunch break, I wanted to see you" he says and that's when you spot the pain in his eyes and you need no explanation as you hug him close.

"How bout a drink on the house, mainly because we haven't put the new drawer in yet" you tell him and he laughs loudly before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"I'd like that" he says and you nod before locking your hand in his own and leading him over to the bar where Mila and Randy jump to look like they were working and not watching the two of you interact.

"Hey, can you get Rafe something to cheer him up?" you ask when you hit the bar and Mila chuckles as Randy nods.

"Rafe having a bad day?” Mila teases lightly, now more comfortable with him since he had been coming around the house. They had reached a new level of friendship when she dug into Rafe about the hickey he had given you. You hadn't realized how carried away he had gotten either and your neck looked like a crime scene opposed to the small mark you had before. She had bitched about how much makeup it would take for her to cover you up when he had told her not too, that he wanted everyone to know you were his. You had felt that sentence in places you shouldn't of and Mila finally accepted Rafe was in this for real.

"Just some idiot coworkers, my revenge was leaving them with the lunch bill today" Rafe returns as Randy sets the brightest drink in front of him. Rafe's eyes widen at the vibrant red color of the liquid and you can't help but giggle.

"What, you said something to cheer him up. This cheers me up" Randy defends and Rafe tilts his head before lifting the drink up.

"Here's to red dye I guess" he says before taking a sip. You all watched curiously as he gulps the the liquid down.

"Not bad Randy, a little too sweet for my liking but good" Rafe says and he grins victoriously as Rafe takes another sip from the drink.

"Don't listen to him, he likes things sweet" you tease and the minute the words leave your mouth you blush a deep red because you know exactly what it sounded like. Mila snorts out a laugh as Randy wears a mortified look.

"I didn't need to know that" he says and you know your flushed cheeks burn visibly for the whole crowd to see.

"I didn't mean it like that" you mutter out and Rafe feels his heart soar over how adorable you look in this moment.

"Don't worry baby, I know exactly what you meant" Rafe says in a proud way, arm wrapping around the back of your chair, and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. He pretends it's real, that you're really his girl and can kiss you as much as he likes. After trying to finally turn his life around for the better and allowing someone like you so close he realized how lonely he truly was, it creeping in like a bad cold.

“God, I need to go on a date” Mila groans out and Randy chuckles beside her.

“What happened with that guy from last night? What was his name? Paul? I thought you were trying to get his number?” Randy asks, continuing to clean the glasses for the upcoming shift.

“Pope, and turns out he was with that gorgeous girl with him the whole time” you don’t miss the way Rafe freezes against you.

“Not really a surprise, that whole group was some of the most good looking people I’ve ever seen. No surprise they were all dating one another, they’ve probably swapped before” Randy says as your eyes look up to Rafe who suddenly looks like he doesn’t want to be here anymore.

“They were the ones who found the road to El Dorado, hence why it would’ve been amazing to get his number” you recognize the look on Rafe’s face being one of panic, so you furrow your eyebrows together and put your hand on his thigh.

“Rafe, what’s wrong?” you ask and as if he’s brought back to reality he stands and begins to shake his head.

“I have to go, good luck tonight guys” and he’s rushing out of the bar before you can even process what’s happening. That doesn’t stop you from chasing after him though, pushing open the doors to find him in the empty parking lot, gripping his hair, and breathing heavily.

"Rafe, whats going on?" you call out after him but he starts to pace, not turning to face you. The worry you had for him when he showed up now heightens as you see him experience something similiar to a panic attack. So you do what you know best and rush over to him, arms stopping his movement and locking him in your space. You'd never willing press yourself so closely to him, allowing him to feel the curves of your large stomach pressing against him, making him aware of your size, but you know with the panic in his eyes he won't register what was happening. "Hey, talk to me"

"I have to get to work" he say's trying to pull away but you squeeze your arms tighter around him so he's not allowed to escape. This brings his attention to you, eyes finally locking on your own.

"Listen to me Rafe, we may be fake dating but that doesn't mean in the last few weeks I haven't gotten to know you. That being said I know you're upset about something and there is no possible way I can allow myself to let you get in that truck and drive off knowing the mental state you are currently in" he freezes at your words, not quite expecting such a speech to come from you but he also feels his heart rate slow to a small thrum. You had calmed him down. Nobody has ever been able to calm him down. "Talk to me, I'm a stranger, remember?"

"You're not a stranger" he says with the shake of his head, his own arms coming to wrap around you. He takes a beat, allow himself to collect his thoughts and consider sharing this with you. "Those people they were talking about, those are my sisters friends. Considering she doesn't go anywhere without them it meant my sister had been there. I haven't seen my sister in over a year. It just freaked me out"

"The sister you dont talk to?" you ask and he confirms with the nod of his head. "She's the one that found the treasure?”

"It was almost me" Rafe whispers and you feel your heart break for him. This showed that the issues with his sister was much more than resentment, it was the high of the chase. Willing to do and sacrfifice anything for something as beautiful as ancient treasure.

"It wasn't just resentment" you whisper out and Rafe squeezes his eyes shut, clearly trying to push away memories he doesn't want to recall. It's when your arms loosen around him his own heart breaks.

"I've done things I regret. Things that I wasn't even in control of. My whole life all my Dad wanted was that damn treasure and I wanted to be the one to give it to him. To make him proud and instead he sacrificed himself for Sarah's safety and she got the treasure instead of me. She got everything and all I got was the stupid company he didn't even want me to have" then to your surprise a tear slips free from his eye and he steps away from you to hide it.

"Hey, stop" you grip his wrist, tugging him back. His heart flutters as your free hand reaches up and brushes the stray tear away. "Come here"

And just like that he falls into your embrace. Head landing on your shoulder and hugging you tightly. He hadn't had someone comfort him like this ever. At least since his Mom has passed, you're embrace warm and a reminder of all those time's he came to her with scraped knees and misty eyes. The thought alone makes him cry silently against you because maybe for the first time he was realizing how broken his family had become. He was technically orphaned and he didn't even have his sisters to rely on anymore.

It was crazy how fast they went from sharing bowls of cereal at the kitchen island, teasing each other like siblings should, to picking sides of a hunting war, faking deaths, losing lives, and hurting one another for real. A year of hatred and blind rage had changed the entire course of his life and now he was left all alone with the one thing he never truly wanted. At least he had you, even if it wasn't real. Then again how sad is it that the one person he can rely on is one he had to bargain to spend time with him. His entire life was a sham.

"Take the day" you say and he pulls back, sniffling and looking at you with teary eyes.

"What?" he asks curiously and you give him a light smile, hands gripping his own.

"Take the rest of the day, Mila and Randy can handle it here. Let's just go back to your apartment, watch a few movies and order some pizza" you tell him and his own smile cracked across his face. He took a moment to consider it before nodding and brushing his damp cheeks away.

"Okay, yeah. I do have to stop into the office quick. Then we can go" and you nod, willing to agree as long as he was okay.

"If we stop at the office I get to drive" you tell him, holding you hand out, and he furrows his eyebrows before you give him a stern look which makes him comply, dropping the keys into your hand.

"Goodluck reaching the pedals" he mutters and you roll your eyes before walking towards the bar to tell Mila and Randy you were taking to day with Rafe.

"I bet I drive it better than you"

a/n: sorry it’s been a while my loves, the holidays always keep me super busy. hope you enjoyed!

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @fishingirl12 @houseofperfecttaste @abbybarnesstuff @carma-fanficaddict @jjmaybankisbae @exhaustedbutelated @diagnosedpsychosis @daivny @drewstarkeygf @vinniehackersbaee @emsgoodthinkin @apollo3475 @https-urwife @willowalexissss @kisstaya @hcneyedsstuff @lexiereblogs @drewsuncrustables @mveggieburger @marvel4life3000 @bibliophilewednesday @humungouspatrolwolf @ijustwanttoreadlols @jaijustreads @sleepjam @dilvcv @aaronhotchswife @sunshine1218 @lavenderhazeq @theultimatefrenchfangirl

Comment if you want to be added to the tag list :))

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up-in-flames-writing · 5 months

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I feel like we never talk about how hard it is to be a trans immigrant. We never talk about how escaping from a country that persecutes you does not free you from suffering & bigotry.

I may not be able to attend my own graduation ceremony. I worked so hard these past three years to achieve something, to be the first person in my immediate family to finish uni, get a degree, & then be able to actually do something with it, to pick my own life course & not stray from it. I reinvented myself during these last three years so much, from the shy, dysphoric kid with no friends to a man who maybe isn't doing the best in life, but who has a hope for the future. I worked hard to present myself in the best way I could, & yet I won't be able to see the fruits of my labours.

And, sure, the reason is real silly. I can't legally change my name, so the name on the degree will be my dead one, & the Vice Chancellor will read out the corpse of my old self in front of all my teachers & peers, everyone who knew me as Booker, & Booker alone. And they will expect to see a young lady in a dress climb the stage, only to be met with a boy who isn't quite a man yet, who is still forced to live under a girl's name.

And why? Why! Because I am an immigrant who feared for my young life when Brexit was happening, who has been teased & bullied for being an ESL student, who never quite belonged. Because I am an immigrant transman who could be imprisoned in my country of birth for the crime of wanting to reinvent myself, who has to walk on eggshells around the man who reared me because he grew up Polish & catholic & who knows how he would react if I told him I was his grandson & not his granddaughter. I am an immigrant who has to hide behind their parents because who knows how my extended family will react to me, who is still not allowed to tell his cousin, his little sister whom he adores, his real name despite the fact I was her age when I started questioning my own gender & I somehow wasn't too young to be in pain!

I am an immigrant who cannot safely return home, but the country that took me in isn't quite the safe haven either. Because I need a passport to prove that my name has changed, but a passport cannot be issued to me under a name my birth country does not approve of. Because to change myself fully, I need to become a citizen to a country that abandoned my homeland after the war & looked away when it was being subjugated during it. Because I need to know how many of the swans in London belong to the Crown for the state to consider me a citizen of this dying empire, despite the fact I've lived here for so long, I can't remember what my childhood home back in Poland even looked like! I cannot truly remember what my room in that flat in a small, backwater Polish town looked like anymore, except for the bed that we now have in our guest bedroom, & the bookshelf that cradles all of my books on transness & queerness & feminism.

Because I am an immigrant from a country who hates me, I am forced to live in a country that hardly tolerates me, & to live as my true self I have to subjugate myself for the sake of an old empire that lost its touch. I have to submit myself to a personal sort of colonisation, to be able to walk onto that stage at graduation with my real name on the degree. But I can't do that, because I don't have the money, because I spent the last three years breaking my back proving to people that the little girl with behavioural problems who was always bullied, was able to become something greater than the sum of her parts. Because I now don't have the time or the patience to tell you exactly when the Union Jack was created, or at what hour of the day is tea time, & I don't have the time to wait for a passport to be sent to me, only for me to return it to sender with a plea of changing my name upon it.

Because my transmacs friends in college had their names changed at sixteen, while I'm already done with my undergrad & still have to contend with the question of what citizenship I would rather have. Because I will sooner be on hormones & growing a beard than I will be able to change my name.

And in all this I find it so ironic that I was named after an angel, & like everything else in my life, I reject the goodness & the easy way out, I reject the things that once made me, me, to become my own god & rebuild myself out of the scraps left behind by a life of turmoil.

And still I am just some immigrant bitch stealing jobs from good, hardworking Britons, & I'm still just a transsexual fag taking women's rights away, & I'm still just some freak of nature manipulating the kids into sin & immorality. And no matter where I go, where I turn to, I don't feel all that angelic at all.

#booker speaks #booker writes #transgender #transmasc #transandrophobia #transphobia #immigrants #xenophobia

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honeymoonavsstuff · 10 months

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Please “How long have you been standing there?” with JJ? Maybe some angst, but you can decide ofcourse. 💗

Pairing: JJ x reader. (part 2 is on my profile if you want)

Summary: I’m just saying that your love lenguage is bullying and you have a big fat crush on JJ.

Warnings: swearing and mean flirting.

A/N: this was in my drafts for such a long time and I wanted to share it. Sorry for my english, I’m Italian and this is not my first lenguage. Continue with the requests❤️

You were tanning on the boat with Kie, when the other boys arrived, interrupting the relaxing moment that you and your best friend were in.

“Rise and shine girls, we have some fish to get” John B shouted while messing up your hair.

You tried to hit him, but the boy was too fast and you gave him the finger. Then you took off your sunglasses, it took you a moment to get used to the strong sunlight and then you saw JJ. You smiled at yourself seeing his new cap.

“Timmy Turner wants his pink hat back JJ '' you expected him to be annoyed or to not respond, but he laughed and went to sit in the spot in front of you.

“How are you, pretty girl ?” he smirked at you. Your stomach aches lightly, stupid fucking cute nickname.

“Not so good now that you're here” he brought his hand on his chest, pretending to be offended. You rolled your eyes and he smiled at you.

“I know that you love me” you lifted your eyebrows unamused while he winked at you.

“You’re so annoying I can’t even look at you” you brought back your sunglasses on and turned your head, only to meet eyes with Kie, who was smiling at you.

“What?” you mouthed at her, confused by her reaction. She rolled her eyes playfully.

“Why are you always so hard on him?” Kiara asked. You two were alone in the chateaux, laying on the couch while the others went to buy dinner.

“What are you talking about?”

“JJ, you’re always picking on him” you smirked to yourself at the question.

“Don’t know, it’s just funny and he annoys me ” Kie lifted her eyebrows.

“You shure?” you nodded a yes.

“So you behave this way with him, being all mean and shit, just because he annoys you?” she positioned herself so she was sitting in front of you.

“Uhm, yeah?” in response she mumbled an unconvinced ‘Okay’.

“Why are you asking me this anyways?”

Kie scoffed “Because you acted like this with Jack Walters too and then hooked up with him.”

You looked at your best friend confused.

“And what are you trying to prove with that?” you scoffed. She smiled like it was the most obvious thing.

“I’m just saying that bullying is your love lenguage and you have a big fat crush on JJ.” You widen your eyes,

“What?” you said in an high pitched voice. “That’s so not true” you threw her a pillow.

“Yes it is!” she threw it back at you.

“No, he annoys me… Like a lot.”

''You wanna tell me that there is not even a small part of you that is attracted to him?”.

You looked right in her eyes trying to think of a comeback, but it took you too long.

“Ah, I knew it” she pointed at you playfully “ and I just know you too well Y/N like-“.

“I’m just saying” you interrupted her,” that I have eyes, I mean everyone can say he is attractive.”

“Oh, just admit it.”

“But he is just so… infuriating, like litterally so-“ you exaled deeply.

“He just makes me mad with his stupid face and his stupid ideas and how he acts and,” you interrupted yourself bringing your hands on your face and making an exasperated sound.

“ God, I think I like him,” you threw your head on the back of the couch, “ am I really that predictable?”

Kie screamed excited “I SO knew it you-” her expression quickly changed.

“What now? You look so dumb with that face Kie, i’m…”

Fucked. You were totally fucked.

JJ was standing right there, right at that moment and you knew you were screwed.

After a few seconds of silence, when the boy couldn’t help but look at you with a smile that made you want to move to another country, the only thing you were able to say was: “How long have you been standing there?”

“You really slept with Walters?”

Shit, he knew about your feelings for him AND one of your worst hookups.

“Well, I’m gonna go now,” Kie said, getting up from her spot. Before leaving the last room you would have ever wanted to be in she mouthed the words “Oh my god” and just left you to your destiny.

“So you like me, uh?” he asked with a smirk.

“Oh, god…” you exclaimed, hiding your face in your hands, “this is karma punishing me.”

JJ's laugh sent you over the edge.

“Laugh again and I’m killing myself” laying on the couch, still with your hands covering your embarrassed face.

“Always so dramatic…” he said, with a grin on and walking towards you.

The blonde offered you a hand, helping you sit up so your eyes were on the same level.

“I guess we have to talk about this,” his blue eyes were intoxicating and you had to remember how to breathe because his voice was so low and smooth and sexy “so let’s say I pick you up later to…sort this out.”

Your throat was sore, maybe you had also forgotten how to speak. You didn’t know what to say and he was still looking at you and you were so nervous and JJ is just so…

“I can’t, I have a date” the lie just slipped off your mouth like nothing, you literally had nothing to do that night.

The boy chuckled another time and took another step towards you.

“Since you are so in love with me, I think you can cancel that” still that smile, still that dreaming voice.

“Shut up, you disgust me” you pushed him away, trying to contain your excitement.

“So my house at eight?”

(part 2)

#outer banks #jj maybank #jj x reader #rafe obx #imagines #outerbanks #obx one shot #obx fluff #obx blurb #obx fic #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jjk x y/n #jj mayback imagine #rafe cameron

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year

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best friends forever <3 ✌️

***Spoilers for White Rabbit Fest!!***

So far, there have been four hometown events (if you include White Rabbit Fest): In Silk City, we met Najma, Jamil's little sister. In Harveston, we met Marja, Epel's grandmother. In Sunset Savanna, we met Kifaji, the Grand Chamberlin of the country (and Cheka, Leona's nephew that we first saw at the end of book 2, had a cameo). Now, in Clock Town, we've met Dylla, Deuce's mom.

I noticed that of the hometown events, White Rabbit Fest was the only one so far where the SSR boy actually demonstrates a strong bond with Yuu and Grim that extends beyond "they're my classmate". Dylla specifically notes that Deuce talks about hanging out with Yuu and Grim both in and out of class. It kind of makes sense for Jamil and Leona to not be buddy-buddy enough with Yuu and Grim to talk about them with their family + head of the royal household, respectively. Beyond helping them in their respective books + asking for their help in the book proceeding their own, Yuu and Grim did not interact with them much. Even when Leona appears later in book 5, he seemed slightly annoyed at Grim approaching him in his homeroom and acting friendly. As for Jamil, he clarifies to Najma that the guests he has over for the fireworks festival are "classmates, not friends" and that "there is a difference". He clearly draws the boundary between those two labels. Epel is more debatable in terms of intimacy, since Yuu and Grim are most often depicted as being close with the first year group more than the second or third years. There's also a very strong story emphasis on Epel as a part of the group in book 5, as well as parts deep in the main story (Ortho's Fairy Gear vignettes, brainstorming ideas to catch Mickey, being relevant at Lilia's farewell party around the same time rather than being relevant at the same times as their respective dorms) and events (like the party at the end of the first Halloween event) where Jack, Ortho, Sebek, and Epel are also portrayed as being part of the "main" group. However, when Epel introduces his classmates to Marja, Marja never makes mention of Epel talking about Yuu or Grim before to her. She just greets them just the same as the other classmates that Epel brought back with him for the sledding race.

Deuce's mom is the only new character we've met in the hometown events that makes an explicit point to mention that Deuce has actively talked about Yuu and Grim (and Ace) before to her. She's even sort of surprised that Ace didn't join them for the trip to Clock Town for the White Rabbit Fest. Furthermore, other event characters (Silver and Epel) comment on the tight bond between Adeuce, Grim, and Yuu. This further cements the idea that Yuu, Grim, Ace, and Deuce are the "core" group (an idea which was first introduced in the prologue), while the other first years are sort of secondary (still friends, just not as close as the first four are), which makes sense with their less frequent appearances in the main story.

ahjbayodybqer For as much as Deuce and Ace argue, it sounds like he still talks a ton about his rival 😅 That's how you know it's true friendship/j

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thebiggerbear · 1 year

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The Ghosts Are Coming For You - One - Another One

Pairing: Beau x Female!Reader; Beau x Female!Detective!Reader

A/N: This is my first foray into the character x reader side of writing. I hope it's okay and you guys like it.

To my lovely beta @rieleatiel, you rock girl!

Disclaimer: Let me just say up front, I have never worked in law enforcement so I tried to piece together things I’ve seen and heard in true crime documentaries and podcasts alongside with movies/tv and books. I apologize for any inconsistencies, incorrect information, exaggerations, or complete fallacies. Also, this story is going to take place over a few months. Some things might be delayed or appear illogical to not have been thought of before they take place in the timeline, but it’s purely for story purposes.

Tl;dr: I made shit up.

Warnings: death, graphic descriptions of murder, mention of past sexual assaults, mention of dead body, discussion of dead bodies

Word Count: 7065

Series Masterlist

Series Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @superrey; @fromcaintodean; @stoneyggirl2; @zepskies; @lacilou; @perpetualabsurdity; @deansbbyx; @syrma-sensei; @globetrotter28; @roseblue373; @angelbabyyy99; @hobby27

Beau Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @birdiellie; @illicithallways; @muhahaha303

This chapter was recc'ed by @winchestergirl2 here.

“Got it, Cap. We’re on our way.”

You made your way over to your partner, Jack Darcy, with your brows raised in question as you handed him his coffee. “New case?”

He gave you an appreciative smile. “Yep. Body found on a property over on Missoula. Cap said we need to get our asses over there asap.”

“Okay,” you sighed, opening the passenger door.

Once you and Jack were settled inside the car, he turned a smirk on you after pulling away from the curb. “What’s wrong, Y/L/N? Getting tired of Homicide already?”

You shrugged half-heartedly, keeping your eyes on the road. “Just another day, another body.”

“You’ve only been working this beat for four months. It can’t be that bad.”

It was that bad. Transferring to Montana from New York, you prepared yourself for small city life, thinking things would slow down since the local population you’d be protecting and serving had drastically reduced from over a million to thousands. Boy, had you been wrong.

“Four months and five years,” you corrected. You’d worked your way up to Homicide in Manhattan but once you got there, as good as you were at it, it wasn’t where you wanted to stay. Hence the transfer to Big Sky Country. You had heard Montana was beautiful and not as chaotically complicated as the Big Apple. So far, only one of those things had proven to be true. Something you thought about as you stared out the window at the clear blue sky.

“Yeah, but, you have to admit, things aren’t as crazy here. We’re lucky to get, what, maybe three cases a week?”

“That’s three too many,” you muttered. In the reflection of your window, you saw Jack roll his eyes but he stayed quiet. In the short time you’d been partnered, he already knew to leave things be when you’d get in this type of mood, which seemed to happen every time you got a new case lately.

The truth was that you were tired — tired of the bodies piling up, tired of the horrors you saw that people could inflict on one another. Not to mention you couldn’t even begin to count how many unsolved homicide cases there were, active and cold. Once you landed here, you noticed the differences right away between your former precinct and your new one, resources and budgets being two of them. Your unit was smaller than your previous one and the bureaucratic bullshit that existed everywhere no matter the location in the country was even different in its own ways. You told yourself that you were making a difference, just like you had back in New York, but lately, that mantra wasn’t cutting it. Unbeknownst to Jack or anyone else in the squad, you were starting to wonder if maybe you should pursue a different path in law enforcement, transfer to a different department. Just like your former partner had urged you to do back when he left. Though, what that could be and if it was even possible, you had no idea, but you were thinking about it.

You opened your window slightly, feeling the crisp air hitting you, and it encouraged you to take a deep breath, ignoring the fact that you were barreling towards yet another murder scene, yet another poor soul that had met with a foul end at someone else’s hand.

Jack listed off the details he had been told so far about the case that had been dropped in your laps, making your eyes close in pain and had you grabbing at your necklace under your shirt. Memories flashed through your mind of a crying family, a picture of a smiling young girl in her high school graduation cap and gown with her proudly holding up her diploma, and a sinister smile from an older man in an interrogation room as his eyes hungrily roved over pictures of the crime scene he was accused of creating. You shook your head to clear your mind and took another deep breath of the Montana air in order to assist in dispeling the thoughts, helping you keep your feet in the present you found yourself in and serving as a reminder to leave the past behind as you had promised yourself you would when you moved out here.

As horrible as this new case sounded, you hoped it wouldn’t be connected to the string of murders you and Jack had been investigating since your arrival.

And almost as if your partner had heard your thoughts, he spoke it into existence. “It might not be connected,” he said hopefully, echoing your own wish. “It might be a standalone. Some random.”

“Could be,” you agreed. “But you know as well as I do that it already sounds like the same MO.”

Jack thought over that for a moment. “We won’t know for sure until we get there and take a look around,” he reminded you. He didn’t want it to be connected anymore than you did.

You nodded and decided to leave it for now, knowing he was right. You needed to get there and start your own investigation; that was the only way to know for certain if this victim would be added to the already sizable file you had sitting on your desk back at the station.

As Jack sped you both towards the scene, you offered up a silent prayer to whoever was listening that you wouldn’t need to add this person’s name to your growing list, and that you’d find whoever was responsible. While you were at it, you also prayed for the one thing you asked every single day: for people to stop hurting one another. It might be an impossible thought when there were 8 billion people running around the planet but you still asked nonetheless. If it was answered, you’d be out of a job, yet you would never be so happy to have to look for a new line of work. However, until that prayer was answered or until you made the decision to move on from Homicide, you’d still continue to work the cases and do your best to find answers as well as justice for the victims alongside the loved ones left behind to suffer.

Gripping the pendant on your necklace, you took another deep breath and put your game face on when Jack pulled up to the scene swarming with Helena PD officers and yellow crime scene tape, bordered by curious neighbors and local media. The white sheet instantly caught your eye and you turned to Jack, both of you exchanging a nod before getting out of the car to make your way towards the newest crime scene of your case files list.

You were still inspecting the body when you heard Jack mutter, “Aw, hell.” You glanced up, furrowing your brows in question. He inclined his head towards a Bronco that had just pulled up to the scene.

You turned to see a blonde woman and a man with a Stetson on his head exit the vehicle. The glint of a badge caught your eye from the man’s belt when he moved to close the door. Both he and the woman started glancing around, walking up to one of the officers standing sentry at the surrounding crime scene tape and speaking with him. You exchanged a glance with Jack before returning your attention to the body. “Deputies from the Sheriff’s Department?”

Your precinct had clashed with them before, though clashed was a bit of a strong word. Compared to Manhattan, the two departments played better together in their joint sandbox; still, that didn’t mean there wasn’t the occasional pissing match, especially when there was a possibility of jurisdictions overlapping. You had heard all about it from your coworkers but it rarely ever happened when you and Jack caught a case.

“The sheriff,” Jack clarified, making you gape up at him in surprise before turning to look over the man with the hat and beard again with a more discerning eye.

“He’s…young.” He was definitely not what you expected, and you were even more surprised that he hadn’t driven himself to the scene, idly wondering if his department vehicle was possibly in the shop.

“Youngest they’ve ever had I’ve heard, and a transplant from Texas, too. One of the good ol’ boys.” So, this was the sheriff you’d heard so much about. Who was the blonde then? You watched as the officer the two had been speaking to held up the tape and let them through.

And as if he could read your mind, Jack then added, inclining his head in the blonde’s direction, “That’s his undersheriff, Jenny Hoyt.” You recognized the name. You’d heard of her as well. A bit of a wildcard, that one, and she didn’t play too well with others at times. “She’s a local. Rumor also has it that she gets plenty under the sheriff.” You glared over at your partner. He laughed and threw his hands up. “Hey, I’m just saying that’s the rumor.”

Rolling your eyes, you went back to your job. You were studying the shallow scrapes on the back of the woman’s wrist when you heard Jack snapping his gloves off and saw him get up out of the corner of your eye.

“Sheriff,” he greeted. “Jack Darcy, Homicide.”

The man gave him a nod. “Beau Arlen. So, what do we have here?” You could hear the twang coming through. He was from Texas alright.

“37 year old female victim, yet to be identified. Homeowner found her this morning when he was letting his dog out, called us right away.”

“Coroner get a look at her yet?”

“He’s en route. Detective Y/L/N and I are doing the initial workup, we’ll let him take over when he gets here. You know the drill.”

“Oh, I do.”

“Do we have any idea on motive?” Through your peripherals, you saw the undersheriff take off her sunglasses and hold out her hand for gloves. An officer handed her a pair and you could hear the tell-tale snapping.

“None yet. Appears to be a brutal stabbing and her throat was cut. Attack could have happened overnight, while she was walking or waiting for a ride, we’re not sure yet. It’s really too early to tell on motive, but don’t worry, Sheriff, we got it from here.” Jack was giving them just enough info to address what they were seeing while also politely shooing them away. You were grateful for it. You weren’t done examining the body or the scene just yet.

The sheriff chuckled good-naturedly. “I’m sure you do. We heard the call and we were in the area, so we figured we’d drop by and see if you city boys needed any help.”

You bit your lip to keep the wiseass remark you wanted to make from slipping out of your mouth. Jack was right; he sounded like one of the good ol’ boys. He probably meant well but damn did it irritate you when you heard remarks like that, especially when you were mid-investigation onsite. Neither you nor Jack had time for this. Nevertheless, you swallowed down the retort and instead focused on the scene. You had only been here for four months so you were still new, and if you wanted to make a leap somewhere down the line, you needed to play nice and not cause any waves.

In the corner of your vision, Hoyt had bent down on the opposite side of the body, her fingers inspecting the woman’s neck where the more severe gashes were. “Any initial impression on the actual cause of death?”

Okay, fuck playing nice. You weren’t territorial or easily bothered, but other than Jack, you didn’t remember asking for another partner. Any other case you’d have just rolled your eyes and sat back while she did her own workup, entertained at her thinking she would know better than yours or Jack’s experience in homicide, but not today and definitely not this case. “Well, I’m no M.E. but I’d say the huge knife wound to the heart along with the throat slash are pretty good bets for being the culprit. Though we’d have to rule out strangulation based on the ligature marks on her neck, you know, just to be safe.”

“Strangulation, too? That’s overkill,” Hoyt murmured, clearly not picking up on your sarcasm.

“Hence homicide.” You ignored her glare and went back to doing your job. Jack chuckled under his breath at your smartassery.

“Well, we’ll just get out of your way and let you continue playing Coroner then.”

You shrugged, not caring in the least about her attitude. “That’d be great, thanks.” The sooner she cleared out and let you finish doing your job, the better.

She scoffed. “There’s no need to be so—”

“Hoyt,” the sheriff warned. “Play nice. Let’s try and remember we’re all on the same team here.”

You couldn’t help but smirk when the sheriff pulled on her leash. Undersheriff or not, how dare she push her way into your crime scene and start questioning you?

Jack spoke up then. “Sheriff Arlen, Hoyt, this is my partner, Detective Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Pleasure,” you ground out, still staring down at the marks on the victim’s neck and the pattern of bruising that was starting to become eerily familiar.

“Likewise,” the sheriff replied. Hoyt stayed silent, her narrowed eyes trained on you.

Jack exchanged glances with the man before clearing his throat. “Anyway, Sheriff, as you can see, we’ve got things well in hand. We appreciate you stopping by, though.”

Beau shot him an amiable smile. “Of course. We’ll get out of your hair. Come on, Hoyt, let’s leave them to it.”

Hoyt never broke her gaze away from you as she got to her feet, snapping off her gloves. You smirked wider, shaking your head in amusement.

Jack’s phone started ringing and he grabbed it. “Sorry, gotta take this.” At Beau waving him off, he immediately picked up the call. “Yeah, Cap? Ah, we’re still going over it but—yeah she’s looking at the body right now. Looks like the attack didn’t happen onsite but she’s confirming that right—.”

“She wasn’t attacked here,” you confirmed for him, never taking your eyes off of the scene in front of you.

“Sorry, Cap, one sec. What was that, Y/L/N?”

You slowly lifted your eyes to his. “She wasn’t killed onsite.” You saw Jack’s shoulders slump slightly and any hope he had held onto when taking Anderson’s call immediately go right out of him. You both already knew as much, the signs of a body dump surrounding the scene, but Jack didn’t want to be the bearer of that news to your captain.

Jack told Captain Anderson he’d call him right back and promptly hung up. “You’re sure?” He asked, sounding deflated.

You gave him a nod, glancing at him somewhat sympathetically. “Positive.”

Your partner sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Shit.”

“What makes you so sure?” Hoyt questioned, her arms crossed and scowl trained on you.

So begins the pissing match. Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you pointed to the body. “What’s the one thing missing from this scene that should be everywhere?”

Both the blonde and the sheriff quickly scanned the area. “Blood,” the man answered.

“Blood,” you confirmed. “There are no footprints or drag marks around the body. No ID, barefoot, clothes are slightly torn and oversaturated with blood but otherwise holding up well, blood and mud-stained soles of her feet on a well manicured lawn after a dry evening with no blood drops or trails anywhere, decomp is more advanced than it should be if she died last night…she was dumped here.” You then pointed to the shallow cuts you found near the victim’s hands and wrists. “And she fought like hell.” You let your eyes linger on the victim for a moment, shaking your head sadly, and got up with a sigh. “She was tortured for a while before she was killed.”

“But why dump the body here? On some random person’s lawn in the middle of the city where the killer could have easily been seen or caught on camera? Why not leave her somewhere she’d never be found, where they wouldn’t have to risk themselves being seen?”

Your gaze moved over to Jack, both of you already knowing the answer to all of that, and he heaved his own heavy sigh.

“To send a message,” he answered.

“A message? To whom?” Hoyt asked.

Your eyes never leaving Jack’s, you snapped your gloves off, both of you opting not to share anything outside of the department. If Hoyt wanted answers, she could call Anderson and he could field that one. “That’s what we’re going to try to find out. Darcy, let’s start sifting through missing person reports from the last few days to see if any match her description.”

“She could have been held longer than that,” Hoyt piped in.

You turned a glare on her. “No, she couldn’t have.” What was with this blonde? Her boss who outranked her already told her to leave it alone. So why couldn’t she just leave you to your crime scene that you clearly knew more about than she did and just be gone already? One glance at the sheriff studying the two of you intently answered that for you. She was trying to show you up in front of him or show off for him, you weren’t quite sure which.

“What makes you so sure?” Hoyt was outright smirking at you now, content in her attempt to ruffle your feathers.

“As I said, the clothes are in excellent condition despite being soiled and there’s also the state of decomposition of the body. Had she been held longer than the time frame I just mentioned and say, killed yesterday, the state of the clothes would be much worse and they would have started deteriorating sooner. Not to mention her pedicure was not that old. Cuticles are pressed and intact.”

“She could have touched it up herself before she was taken. Or gotten it done right before.”

“Hoyt.” Beau gave her a look when she turned her smirk on him. “Let it go. They’ve got it.”

“That’s alright.” You took a step closer, staring down Hoyt and smirking right back. “Undersheriff Hoyt, if you would like to take over the investigation, by all means.” You waved a hand at the scene in front of you, ignoring Jack’s wide eyes and the motions he made with his hand to get you to rescind that offer. “If you’d like, I can make sure the State is made aware that you are now heading this case.”

“Wait, State’s involved?” The sheriff asked in surprise that then turned dubious.

“They are,” you answered before Jack could, never looking away from the blonde.

“Already?” Hoyt asked, suspicion clear as day on her face.

“Already,” you confirmed, no hesitation. “So shall I call them and tell them that this is now your case?”

Hoyt’s smirk had dropped long ago and the scowl was back in place. She considered you for a moment and then stuck her nose up in the air, downright glaring at you. But she didn’t say a word.

The sheriff took note of yours and Hoyt’s standoff as well as Jack’s anxious expression, then cleared his throat. “Like I said before, we’ll leave you to it.”

You nodded curtly, more than satisfied at the turn of events, and glanced back at Jack. “Call Anderson and update him. We’re looking at another one.”

He gave you a somber nod and moved away to do just that.

You couldn’t resist turning back to Hoyt with a syrupy sweet smile. “Like I said before, a pleasure.” Your smile faded and your eyes burned into hers as you spun on your heel to walk away, knowing that was the end of that little dick measuring contest and who had won. As entertaining as it had all been, you had work to do.

“Hold up a sec,” the man next to her called out.

You took a deep breath and turned, seeing Hoyt and Sheriff Arlen exchanging a glance. The latter locked eyes with you and put his hands on his hips. “You said it was another one. Just how many victims have you had show up with this MO?”

Hoyt arched her brows expectantly at you, waiting for you to answer.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss any ongoing investigations in the Helena Police Department. If you have any questions, you can direct them to my captain. Jack can give you the number.” You then walked away, heading back to the car, more than eager to take a minute for yourself and collect your thoughts under the guise of needing to make a call. You couldn’t believe you and Jack had yet another victim on your hands this soon. The guy you were after didn’t appear to be slowing down at all; if anything, he was picking up his pace, and that worried you.

It shouldn’t have surprised you when the sheriff was suddenly next to you, matching your stride. “Bureaucratic bullshit aside, I need to know, are we dealing with something nasty here?”

“Nastier than someone brutally torturing and killing another person, then dumping the body somewhere she’s sure to be found so another person can be terrorized?”

“Good point. But you know what I mean. I saw you and Dorsey back there, I know there’s something you’re not saying. Are we talking about a serial killer or something else?” He shook his head when you didn’t answer him. “Come on, Detective Y/L/N, tell me what we’re dealing with here.”

You let out a breath and stopped in your tracks, turning to face him. “It’s Darcy. And we are not talking about anything or dealing with anything together. As I said, if you have any questions, you can direct them to—”

“Your Captain, yeah, I got it.” He took a deep breath and his hands were back on his belt, green eyes pleading with you though there was a sharp edge to them. “Listen, if there’s something serious going on in my county, I need to know about it. If the shoe was on the other foot, we’d give you the professional courtesy, you know that.” You had to admit that he had a point, though you weren’t exactly sure how he didn’t already know about the growing threat, from local media coverage to small town folks talking. You may have oversold State’s involvement earlier to get Hoyt off of your backs so you could continue to do your jobs without further interference, but nothing could be further from the truth. Captain Anderson as well as the Chief were doing everything they could to keep things tight and close to the vest. A serial killer on the loose in this area wasn’t exactly unheard of; there had been the Bleeding Heart killer that evaded capture for years until recently. However, your bosses were under the strict impression that people didn’t need to worry about another potential problem, possibly breaking through the front doors of their homes, or abducting and killing their neighbors quite so soon. It would look like they couldn’t get a handle on their city, people would be too scared to leave their homes, people would stop coming through here, and Helena would become known as a haven for serial killers. At least that’s all of the bullshit reasoning you’d heard so far.

You personally disagreed with it all; you had learned first hand back in New York how valuable it could be to the investigation to keep the local population on alert, and how it might help reduce the number of victims. It could even provide a break in the case. Out here, in a close knit community such as this one, well, public awareness was not always viewed the same way hence all the bullshit justifications in keeping it quiet. At least as far as you had seen with this particular string of murders, anyway.

But even with your bosses working hard to keep a lid on things, how had this sheriff or his department not somehow become aware of what was going on right under their very noses?

Your gaze flickered back to the scene, seeing Jack talking with Hoyt, most likely in the same position you were in since the sheriff duo obviously decided to try to divide and conquer, before it landed back on the man in front of you. Seeing the concern layering his brow, his expression determined, you decided the hell with it. You’d made the case to Anderson more than once for things to go public, to lean on State more, to compare notes with other law enforcement such as the Sheriff’s Department to see if there were any other patterns or victims you were unaware of, missing or dead, or maybe even reported attempts at abduction or someone seeing something strange that could help turn the tide. Yet each time, you’d been denied and politely warned to keep your mouth shut, your head down, and to focus on your job. Well, you were already thinking of a change; what could it hurt to let this earnest looking sheriff know what was really going on? Perhaps he’d even do something with the limited information you could give him and jurisdiction squabbles aside, would it really be so bad to have another pair of eyes on the lookout for the same things you were? You didn’t think so. “Bureaucratic bullshit aside, nothing has been officially determined yet. For this case or..any others.”

His eyes tightened. “How many are we looking at so far?”

You bit your lip and turned to look at the officers surrounding the area. “Five.”

“And she’s the sixth?”

“If it’s determined that this fits that MO, then yes.”

“Based on your previous cases, does it?”

You gave him a look, staying silent. He knew you couldn’t answer that outright.

The sheriff let out a sigh and dropped his gaze to the ground. “Span of time?”

“Four in the last four months.” His head snapped up, his mouth hanging open. “That’s since I’ve been here. One was found right before I showed up.”

He nodded and glanced back towards the scene. “Goddamn,” he said under his breath. After a moment, he turned back to you. His features started to relax slightly and the beginning of a smile began to form on his lips. “So, that’s why I haven’t seen you around before. I was wondering. Four months, huh? How’re you liking it so far?”

You glanced back in the direction of the body. “Seriously considering a change of address,” you muttered. “Maybe something tropical. People seem happier near beaches. I’m thinking it’s gotta be the sand, bikinis, and free-flowing booze. That or people are just too exhausted from being in the sun all day. I think that’d suit me just fine.”

A warm laugh escaped him as his bright smile graced you, reaching up to his eyes this time. It made you nearly smile in response, it was that infectious. He was certainly attractive and he had the whole sexy cowboy sheriff vibe working for him, complete with hat. For a split second, you wondered what could have happened had you met him at one of the local bars some night where your introduction to one another would have been vastly different. You tried to picture yourself line dancing at some country bar he might frequent but couldn’t. You’d tried it once but never really cared for it. You were more of a swayer and every so often (with a certain amount of liquid courage or lust coursing through your veins) a grinder. Instead, you might have grabbed his hat off of his head to get his attention and plopped it on yours, uttering the cheesy line of “Save a horse, ride a cowboy” or something to keep his focus squarely on you for the rest of the night. Before you could get too carried away in your thoughts, seeing an officer moving past you reminded you of why you were here. You needed to concentrate and get your head back into the game.

“Oh, come on,” he urged, thankfully completely oblivious to what you had been thinking. “It’s only been four months! It took me at least six to settle in when I moved up here. You’ve got to give it at least that. I do copy you on the beaches thing, though. Definitely a slower pace.”

“Right? Though it’s gotta be a real pain in the ass to collect evidence in between tourists and the saltwater. You know what? Maybe I should just change careers. I’ll become a lifeguard. Bring some Baywatch to the Bahamas.” Oh no, that sounded flirty, hadn’t it? You hadn’t meant for it to sound flirty.

His eyes lit up slightly but his amiable smile stayed the same. “I have no doubt in my mind you could.”

You nearly smirked but forced yourself to look disappointed. “But then again, there are sharks in the Bahamas, so maybe my Baywatch lifeguard audition will have to wait until, say, never.”

“Well, that’s a crying shame. Just when I thought I’d finally make the plane ride to the Bahamas.” His voice had dipped in register and his gaze burned into you, making you almost shiver. It was very obvious what he was thinking and you were thankful you were surrounded by several officers, your partner included, because there was no telling what you’d do if it was just the two of you and he looked at you like that. You had a very good idea of what he’d do and you found that you didn’t mind all that much, if you two weren’t on the job and he wasn’t already involved with someone else.

You forced yourself to focus, holding a hand up. “Alright, slow your roll there, Hasselhoff. You want to swim with the sharks, you go right ahead. Me? I’m staying on dry land, thank you very much.” He laughed again and you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms, thankful that you had been able to change the course of that conversation. “So, six months, huh? From Texas I take it?”

His smile got brighter if that were even possible. “The accent that obvious?”

“The accent, the hat, the whole cowboy vibe you’ve got going on.” You gestured to him with a hand.

“You got something against cowboys?” He teased.

“Nope. It’s just that we don’t see too many of those in the Big Apple.”

“New York, huh? Should’ve known. You’ve got the whole SVU vibe working for you.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again. Like you hadn’t heard that one before. “Not every female detective from Manhattan is named Olivia Benson and not all of us work out of SVU.”

He held his hands up, still smiling. “I didn’t mean anything by it, darlin’.” At your raised brows, he chuckled. “Just a friendly term where I come from. I didn’t mean anything by that either.”

“Uh huh.” You spun on your heel and continued your trek to the car, nodding your thanks at the officer who lifted the crime scene tape for you to pass under. The sheriff continued to dog your steps which made you smile discreetly.

“So, tell me, how do people on that tiny island live all squished together like that?” He wondered.

“I don’t know, one and a half million people somehow manage to figure it out every day.”

“One and a half million? Son of a bitch.” You had just reached the vehicle when he turned to you. “Who am I kidding? I come from Houston and we have even more people there. Except we’re spread out and have more room to roam.” He chuckled, expecting you to find that as funny as he did.

You gave him a polite smile and opened your door, waiting. “Was there anything else you needed, Sheriff?”

“Please, call me Beau. And yeah, there was one more thing.” You arched a brow up at him and his grin melted into a different smile altogether, making something flip inside your stomach. Uh oh. You were back in that murky territory from a moment ago. “I was wondering if you’d let me take you to dinner.”

Your gaze snapped to where Jack was currently talking on his phone. Hoyt wasn’t too far from him, watching your every move, you swung your head back to find the sheriff staring at you expectantly, the same smile from before sitting on his bearded face. You decided not to beat around the bush. “I was under the impression that you were…otherwise engaged.”

His brows began to furrow in confusion. “How do you mean?”

You inclined your head back in Hoyt’s direction. He quickly glanced over and then back to you. “What, Hoyt? No, we’re just partners. She’s my undersheriff and a friend, nothing more.” You shot him a look and he laughed. “I’m serious, there’s nothing going on. I’m free as a bird. So, how about that date?”

You bit your lip in thought, trying to think of the best way to politely turn him down. You really, really wanted to accept, to see where this might go, even if it was just a one time thing, but the way Hoyt was eyeing him and you right now, there was bound to be trouble there, even if it was only a simple dinner between you and the cowboy. Which, as Beau had said before, was a crying shame. He seemed nice enough but you really couldn’t afford to make waves, not if you planned to secure another transfer after such a short stint up here. You would have to politely decline his invitation. “I’m probably going to be working late, especially with this new case. Thank you for the offer, though.”

He tilted his head, smiling wider at you. “Come on, you gotta eat sometime. Besides, what kind of sheriff would I be if I didn’t show a newcomer such as yourself some of the great things Helena has to offer? Like the steakhouse I’d like to take you to. They have the best ribeye in the whole county, hand to God.”

You could see that he expected that to do the trick. So, you turned the tables on him. You closed the door and crossed your arms. “Texas, didn’t you already pump me for information about this case? I gave you what I could. There’s nothing else I can give you.”

His eyes flashed at your last statement. Uh oh. “I doubt that’s true but be that as it may, I’m not asking you to dinner to talk about work. As a matter of fact, I have a strict policy during dinner: no work-talk. So, what do you say, darlin’? Let me take you out?”

You glared up at him. “Will you drop the darlin’?”

“If you really want me to,” he agreed.

“I really want you to.”

“Consider it done. May I call you by your first name then?”

“I’d prefer it to darlin’.”

“Alright. Y/N. Now that we’ve got that settled, I’ll pick you up at your place, say around…7?”

Shit, were you really going to do this? You could not afford to make waves. There wasn’t really anything stopping you. You two worked for different departments, precincts even. He wasn’t your superior and while he outranked you, you weren’t working with him. He had addressed the Hoyt issue head on, assuring you they weren’t involved. You two were grown adults, able to just have a nice meal together. Besides, you hadn’t had a good steak in a while and what could it hurt? Although, you couldn’t have him come to your house because you were pretty sure you’d never make it past the porch, not with the way he had been eyeing you up earlier, not with how often your thoughts headed in that direction.

You noticed him lick his lips as he waited for your answer. It easily could have been a nervous tic, thinking you’d might turn him down, but your brain zoned in on the action. His smile was warm, infectious, and you hadn’t terribly minded your little banter before. You could probably have a somewhat decent time and get along fairly well. Before you knew it, you were agreeing to let him take you to dinner. “Make it 7:30, outside the precinct. I’ll be done around then.”

When he grinned happily, you felt that same flip-type feeling from earlier. Maybe dinner with someone other than Jack and something other than takeout on the fly wouldn’t be so bad. It’s not like you were promising the man anything other than a meal filled with conversation. And he had been right, you could eat, though you’d never admit it to him. It’s not like you were jumping right into bed with him…hence why you asked him to pick you up at the precinct.

“7:30 it is. I’ll see you then, Y/N.” He flashed you another smile and turned to walk away.

“See you then, Texas.”

He tipped his hat in your direction, his eyes taking forever to leave you, and headed back over to the scowling blonde. Figures — the first guy to officially ask you out since your move here would be within the vicinity of a crime scene, not to mention the whole little flirtation moment. That was just your luck, wasn’t it? A part of you even wondered if you were normal for accepting his offer at said scene, not knowing a thing about him or once thinking it odd that he chose this to be his moment after seeing a dead woman who had been stabbed repeatedly by some sick bastard.

You shook your head, unsure of what the hell you had just gotten yourself into, thinking your whole life was a weird mess, so what was one more strange thing? You sat inside the passenger seat of the car, laying your head back against the headrest as thoughts of this case ran through your mind.

Another one. How the hell was that even possible? There were now six victims with the same MO. Knife to the chest, ending in the heart, after their throat had been slashed but before they completely bled out. And this was after they’d been tortured for hours, days even, where they’d been repeatedly strangled to the point of unconsciousness and then brought back so more horrors and pain could be inflicted on them. It reminded you of a series of homicides you’d worked back in Manhattan, with an eerily similar MO; the difference was that those victims were sexually assaulted, asphyxiated with a plastic bag over their heads repeatedly, and their bodies were dropped off at different anchor points, not some random location where the body was guaranteed to be discovered within a short amount of time and it would put the killer at risk to be easily spotted by passersby or security cameras. Not to mention, you had closed the Manhattan case; the bastard was still sitting in jail — you’d checked.

You slipped your necklace from underneath your shirt and began to move the pendant back and forth as you thought it over some more. The victims here in Montana matched one description: a woman in her mid to late 30’s, usually turned out to be single or at the least casually dating, nothing serious. She always had Y/H/C hair, working hard in her chosen career or job, and she appeared to have been a decent dresser while doing the upkeep required for her fingernails and toenails. That was really what prompted your hunch about the pedicure that you couldn’t tell Hoyt, and let’s face it, wouldn’t tell her unless you were forced to. The territorial blonde had definitely left a bitter taste in your mouth.

But the New York victims had been women of various sizes, races, ages, and stations in life. One was a sex worker, one was a single mom, one was a lawyer from the Upper East side, one had been a late teen fresh out of high school… You closed your eyes in pain, gripping your pendant tightly. That had been one of your toughest cases to date. You didn’t like to think about it but that had been the one to light a fire deep within you to do whatever it took to hunt down the sick bastard who had done that to her. You worked tirelessly with your partner, trying to fit the pieces together, and run down the very little clues you had. In the end, it had all paid off. You made sure you were present that day in court for that son of a bitch’s sentencing.

You opened your eyes and thought back to your current case. Every detail of this scene fit the details of previous scenes to a tee, minus the location where the body had been dumped. But the why of the dumping seemed to fit into a pattern. Something kept prodding at you, pulling at your instincts. Something was off here. You knew you were dealing with a serial but something kept pushing at you about Manhattan… It had to be the similarities. It was only natural for you to recall your experience when you saw similar MO’s in trying to figure out who was behind the killing and what their motivation was. Yes, that was it.

You were interrupted in your reverie by your cell phone ringing. You answered it on the first ring. “Yeah?”

“I need you up here,” Jack requested.

“On my way.” You hung up and took a deep breath, slipping your necklace back under your shirt, and stepped out of the car, intent on heading back up to where your partner was. You both needed to figure this out and fast. You knew this woman was about to be added to the list of murder victims that had been the work of a serial you were currently tracking down, and based on how frequently he was doing this, he was only just getting started.

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honeypiehotchner · 1 year

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Devil’s Backbone (Unsub!Hotch x Fem!Reader) — part sixteen

I'm ALIVE!!! Listen, long story short, moving to a different country is hard. And it is harder when you get sick...and when that sickness puts you in the hospital. Anyway! I am out of the hospital now, doing much better, and ready to finish uploading this fic and break some hearts because ooh boy :))))

Warnings: this is just sad idk what else to say for myself

Sixteen: You’re still the oxygen I breathe — “THE LONELIEST” by Måneskin

A new plan was devised. You were going to meet Hotch, but you weren’t going in completely alone. He didn’t need to know that.

Honestly, he was a fool if he didn’t suspect you to come with some form of backup.

You were told to meet him at a local park, one that closed down at dusk, but obviously that didn’t matter. He said he’d find you when you got there. And the two of you would talk somewhere private.

It scared and excited you at the same time. You felt you finally had the opportunity to make it all right. You’d convince him to turn himself in, to get help. To stop killing. To save himself. You had a feeling in your gut that you were the only one who could convince him to stop. You knew you had to try.

“Do I really need this?” you grumbled, taking the bulletproof vest from Morgan.

“Yeah, you do,” Morgan replied, deadpan but not too stern. “Put it on.”

You already were. Deep down, you knew it was better to be safe than sorry.

“Prentiss and I will be parked just down the street,” Morgan explained. “We’ll move closer once you guys are out of sight. We’ll be right there with you.”

“Don’t worry, kiddo,” Rossi tried to offer a smile, but you could tell it was a struggle. “It’ll be alright. It’ll be over after this.”

Somehow, even then, you knew that wasn’t true. But you nodded anyway, ignoring the nagging feeling in your chest.

You shrugged your jacket over the vest. It wouldn’t hide it completely, but you didn’t think that mattered. Aaron probably expected you to come with the vest on, or some sort of protection. He didn’t request that you come unarmed, so you had your handgun, but you didn’t plan on using it. You hoped he didn’t plan on using his, either.

Reid stayed at the precinct to work with Garcia, but Rossi and JJ went into the field as well. Police were set up to watch the exit roads from the park, and Rossi and JJ would be there with them, waiting. Just in case.

You glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearing midnight. Almost time.

+++

Aaron felt himself going insane.

At first, when he meant to meet with you, it was purely to get the team off of his back. To try his hand once again to convince you to leave it alone. But he knew that wouldn’t work. Not really.

Then he saw Jack. He swore it. As he killed the most recent unsub, he swore it. He swore he saw Jack run from him, hiding somewhere in that house. He swore.

But he knew where Jack was buried. He watched them lower his casket into the ground, right next to Haley. To rest there forever, safe from harm, away from Hotch, finally at peace. It tore him in half.

He needed to see you. He needed you. But he didn’t need the team; he didn’t need you as an agent. It was different. He knew you felt it too, so he knew you would meet him.

He saw you parking your car across the parking lot. It was one of the team’s SUVs, but he figured it would be. What mattered most was that you were alone.

+++

As he said he would, Aaron found you.

You left your car and headed into the park, finding a random bench to sit down on. It was underneath a streetlamp, so you figured Prentiss and Morgan had a visual on you from there. Aaron came out of the shadows.

“Jesus,” you jumped clear in the air and onto your feet, your hand instinctively reaching for your gun on your hip. Aaron noticed.

He smirked. “I see you came armed.”

“You didn’t say not to,” you exhaled. “I don’t exactly like being in a park in the middle of the night alone.”

“You’re not alone. I’m here.”

“Yes, that makes it much better,” you glared at him. You didn’t mean to be so fierce with him, but it happened. The frustration and pain you had felt for weeks resurfaced as pure, red anger. “Why did you ask me to come here? I could get fired.”

“We’ve done worse that you could easily be fired for as well.”

Your ears burned. You silently thanked the team that said they didn’t have time to hook you up with a wire.

“What do you want?” you asked again, crossing your arms over your chest.

Aaron smiled. It sent a chill down your spine. It wasn’t his smile. “Walk with me.”

“Why?”

“You’re full of questions tonight,” he mused, stepping closer to you, crowding your space in the way you used to love. His eyes scanned your face. “Why are you nervous?”

“You threatened to kill me the last time we spoke, so.”

“I told you not to give me a reason to,” he clarified, as if it made it sound any better. “Is there a reason you’d like to share?”

You thought of the police cars silently surrounding the perimeter. Reid and Garcia worked to find where Philips might be with his son, to be one step ahead of Hotch. Prentiss and Morgan in one car, binoculars pressed to their eyes. Rossi and JJ waited in another car, coordinating how to take Hotch down if he ran.

“No,” you said firmly. “Are you going to talk or can I go back to sleep? I’m exhausted, thanks to you.”

“Ah, you know, then,” he replied, turning to walk away from you, down the paved path. “The unsub I killed last night.”

“Daniel Newman,” you said, following him. You watched Hotch scoff at the name. You pressed that point, “What?”

“He was an unsub.”

“Unsubs don’t have names now?”

He shot you a heated glare. He knew you were toying with him. You hadn’t expected it to get under his skin as much as it was.

“You’re the unsub now, Aaron. Do you have any idea of the consequences of what you’ve done?”

“They should thank me for what I’m doing!” he yelled, spinning around to face you. His eyes were wide with fury, an anger so misplaced that you wondered if it was even anger anymore. “These men should’ve never gotten off easy! They killed families! Wives, children!”

“You killed Foyet, Aaron!” you yelled right back, wondering if any of the team was able to hear you. Your voice echoed around you in the empty park. “He’s gone. You finished it. What the hell are you doing now?”

“Actually finishing it,” he snapped, his eyes haunted. “You have no idea what I’ve been through. Losing Haley, losing Jack— I saw him. Last night, I swore he was there, but I know we buried him. I lowered his coffin myself but I keep seeing him. So don't tell me what to do. You have no idea.”

You watched with each word as Aaron crumbled and crumbled and crumbled. Your face fell when he mentioned seeing Jack, seeing the ghost of a forever little boy who will never grow up. And a father who would never forgive himself for any of it.

“Aaron, please,” you whispered, stepping closer, unable to stand it when he was like this. The tears gathering in his eyes, the broken sound from his chest when you touched him gently. “Come here.”

He let you, and you were shocked, but you didn’t back down. You held him there, his head pressed into your shoulder, your fingers buried in his hair, shushing him. You had held him this way before, under completely different circumstances, though still about the loss.

“Aaron, please, come back with me,” you murmured. “We can get you help. We can fix this.”

“What will help is me finishing this.” The words are muffled into your neck, but broken and sobbed all the same.

“It’ll never be finished. You know that, Aaron,” you pleaded, lifting his head, both of your hands cupping his jaw. “Don’t do this. Look at me.” It took a moment, but he did, and he looked recognizable then. Only for a moment, you saw your Aaron. For the last time, though you didn't know it. “Don’t do this to yourself. You can stop now.”

He shook his head. “I can’t.”

“You can,” you argued, your fingertips digging into his cheeks. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I do. I have to,” he said.

It all happened so fast. The police lights grew brighter. Sirens faded and wailed into earshot. Screaming. Spinning. You wanted to cuss all of them out. I almost had him! I almost saved him! But you didn’t. You only thought you did.

“Aaron, please,” you cried as he slipped away from you, betrayal on his face, mixing with the tears that he now regretted having shed. Shame clouded his face. Anger took over next. “I’m sorry,” you sobbed, hands covering your mouth. “I’m so sorry, Aaron, please."

He said nothing. He ran.

#aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #unsub!hotch x fem!reader #unsub!hotch x reader #unsub!hotch x you #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #Devil's Backbone #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #hotch #hotch fanfiction #hotch fanfic

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pumpkinfreak · 8 months

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Watching Hannibal for the first time S2e5-e6

Only two episodes for this post, because too much happened in episode 6.

Ep 5

Hey...remember how Beverly found Hannibal's (unconfirmed Beanie Baby collection) secret bunker? Yeah, she got super murdered. How does Hannibal find the time to slice a body up, and artfully place it between giant panes of glass. I know this man did not cheap out and use plexi, real glass, or bust.

We get Sad Science Boys in this episode. I haven't really talked about these two. I've been too distracted by everything else going on. Usually, they're Sassy Science Boys but their buddy Beverly died via ironic murder. So they are Sad Science Boys now. You know who else is sad...Will.

Will loses his chill, like all of it, and he decides he really wants to talk to the Ripper. He just wants to talk I swear...

He doesn't want to talk...you guys..he wants to super-murder Hannibal

SO HE GOES TO FREDDIE. He wants to put a secret message in her blog to the person who killed the Bailiff from his trial, Because guess what the Judges' murderer and the Bailiff were two different people. Turns out one of the Nurses looking after Will. He's like, " I want us to be murder boyfriends!" and Will is all, "Okay but you have to kill my ex-murder boyfriend first." Sure enough, the nurse finds Hannibal at a country club pool.

This nurse shoots Hannibal with a tranquilizer dart... because this is a Loony Tunes skit...

I WAS NOT PREPARED FOR THIS

First of all. Where was the scene shot? He was tranquilized at the pool and then cut to this stone shower room? It's the most bizarre area. I don't know why but it makes me think of the scene in Narnia where Aslan is sacrificed. I wish I could explain why. I do not think the showrunners were going for Narnia vibes. anyway, the Nurse dies after Jack and Alana find him.

Ep 6

THIS EPISODE...like a season's worth of things happened

Will denies trying to kill Hannibal

The murder Rolodex comes out of storage because Hannibal is throwing a dinner party.

Hannibal kidnaps Gideon, amputates his legs, and then feeds it to him

Hannibal and Alana sleep togother

Will is proven innocent

Miriam Lass is alive

THAT IS SO MUCH. I was not ready for most of it.

First of all, I don't think I've talked about Miriam Lass? She used to be Jack's protege, and she got taken by Hannibal two years ago when she was investigating the Ripper case. Apparently, she's been in well, just chilling, in a well in an abandoned cabin. Also, Hannibal took her arm. The boy can't help himself.

Alana and Hannibal sleep togother...

Girl. Listen, I know he's a serial killer and a cannibal...but...I would also fold like a cheap plastic lawn chair faced with a brisk breeze. If you do not want me to fall for the killer? Don't make him a Renaissance man with a cute European accent, AND HE'S A DOCTOR! I could learn to ignore the screams coming from the Beanie Baby Bunker.

"It's just a draft, a very shrill draft."

Also, we see more of Hannibal's home during this episode. It's so beautiful. I could fix him.

Anyway, Hannibal's whole reason for sleeping with Alana, is so he has an alibi for when Gideon goes missing. Who as I mentioned is nabbed by Hannibal so he won't squeal about who the Ripper is. ALSO, HANNIBAL FEEDS HIM HIS OWN AMPUTATED LEG. Just to rub salt in the wound, I guess?

Lastly, Will is proven innocent! They freed Pookie! When Hannibal snatched up Gideon. He strung up a guard, like Christmas tinsel, and left evidence proving Will could not have murdered all those people. Looks like Hannibal took the hint (the attempted murder) that Will did not appreciate being framed.

Will Hannibal learn the true meaning of friendship? Can Will learn to love again? Probably not, none of us are getting out of this mess alive!

#first time watch #hannibal #will graham #mads mikkelsen #horror #hugh dancy

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15minlatewithbatbucks · 10 months

Text

untitled janet/talia, Bruce's bio kid Tim AU -> no choice but to love you pt. 4

AO3 Link (a little behind, but better edited)

---

“This is outrageous.”

Bruce sighed, head propped up on a fist and still looking through the results of his last hour or so of intensive research. He felt more than he heard Talia move behind him and begin threading sharp nails through his hair soothingly. He might be tempting to take the comfort at face value, but knew she was likely only reading over his shoulder again.

Bruce hadn’t handed Janet’s little gifts off to any of his people. He could do it himself, after all, and something about her story had rang true enough that Bruce wanted to initially limit the number of people that knew. He couldn’t justify not telling Talia, however, and had called her on his way down to one of the labs on the lower floor.

Talia dealt with things best after she got her initial gut reaction out of the way and could be logical about the whole thing.

She strolled into WE even before the rapid DNA test was finished, not a hair out of place. She sat with him until the results came back confirming that the owner of the provided DNA sample was definitely the biological child of Bruce Wayne. And then she started pacing while Bruce got to work.

For her benefit, he clicked over to the basic background he’d run on Janet Drake. Talia sniffed derisively at the attached photo, the one she’d provided for her passport.

“You really laid with her, beloved?” she asked, voice appropriately morose.

Bruce didn’t believe it for a second. “What, like you wouldn’t have?”

“You are avoiding the question,” she said, similarly avoiding the question. “Why her?”

“We weren’t together at the time. I was traveling without Dick or Alfred and ended up in Cypress for a few days. I witnessed her get off the phone and throw her wedding band into the pool and offered to buy her a drink,” he explained and shrugged. “We were both from Gotham and homesick. I asked, but birth control can fail.”

“Or she lied.”

“She didn’t.” Bruce began pulling up medical files for Talia to peruse. Her hair dragged across his neck as she leaned in to see better and he couldn’t resist tilting his head to rest against her. “I pulled her medical files. She had an IUD at the time of conception and had to fly back to Gotham to have it removed. He ordered bed rest and even so the chance of a miscarriage was so high that she was warned not to name the- the fetus.”

“The baby,” Talia corrected for him. “Your baby.”

Wordlessly, Bruce straightened and pulled up a picture of little Timothy Jackson Drake. Unlike most heirs of Gotham’s elite, pictures of the boy were few and far between on social media or in the press. So, naturally, Bruce hacked into Janet’s cloud in hopes of finding more.

He did, but not by much. Travel logs put the Drakes out of the country for a good chunk of the year and only a very broken trail of nannies left to mind the little boy while his parents were off globetrotting. Only their housekeeper had been with the family for more than a year.

And they wanted another, Bruce thought despairingly.

“He looks like you,” Talia said, an almost sad twist to her mouth making Bruce want to lean in and kiss it away. “Exactly like you. Jack Drake must be a fool.”

“I was bigger at his age,” Bruce said carelessly, carefully spinning around to face her. She let him take her hands and look hard into her eyes. “Listen to me. This doesn’t change the love I have for you or Damian. This was an accident, yes, but there’s no reason being angry with Janet or Tim.”

Talia’s own piercing green eyes searched his face while he tried to work against his training and remain open and honest. He owed her transparency. He owed her the world for sacrificing her entire life when she abandoned her family and the League.

“What does this Janet want with us?” she asked after a long moment, taking her hands back from Bruce. She instead wrapped them comfortably around her baby bump.

“She said that Tim’s parentage came into question when she and Jack tried for another baby.” And because if he could be petty with anyone, he could be petty with Talia, he added, “Because I guess having a child fixed their marriage so well in the first place.”

Talia’s eyes strayed back to the screen where Tim’s picture was still prominently displayed. “He does not look like a miracle worker, but I suppose I will have to reserve my judgments until I meet the boy at least. I notice that he does not, in fact, have any siblings.”

“Jack’s infertile,” he said. “Or close enough. When he found out, he ordered a paternity test and filed for divorce the next day.”

“Quick. Efficient.”

“Janet tells me that he’s the one that wanted children and that she doubts her ability to care for Tim on her own.”

“He means to leave her destitute?” Talia asked, leaning over Bruce to click back to his profile on Janet. She scrolled through to look for other pictures, faculty IDs and visa photos and whatnot. “She’s attractive enough. She may join my harem if she so chooses.”

“But it was a problem when I slept with her,” Bruce complained. Talia flashed him a dangerous grin. “No, the divorce proceedings do seem fair to her. I think that it’s more that she doubts herself as a mother. I think she fears what damage she could do to him as a single mother that didn’t want a child in the first place.”

“She knows of your other rescues and seeks to leave him on your doorstep, then.”

“Talia,” he growled. She patted his cheek condescending.

“Relax, beloved. Jason was the one to label himself as such and Richard already loathes me,” she said. “I mean them no ill will.”

“He doesn’t loathe you.”

“He does and it works for us.” She gave an elegant shrug. “And what of Jason? You’ve only just acclimated him to our lifestyle and now you mean to add another right before Damian arrives.”

“I’ll talk to him tonight before patrol,” Bruce promised. “Jason likes other kids and it isn’t like Tim is moving in tomorrow. Janet and Tim are still living with Jack for now. With any luck, we can figure out a joint custody agreement that works for everyone. In the future Janet wants to give me primary custody, yes, but she wants to be a part of Tim’s life.”

“So we will be co-parenting with this woman,” Talia sighed dramatically and Bruce very lovingly didn’t point out that five minutes ago she had been inviting “this woman” into her harem. “While you no doubt ply her support at every opportunity. I implore you to wear a condom this time, beloved.”

Bruce straightened in his chair in indignation.

“You impregnated her through an IUD last time,” she continued. “Who knows what you could do with the woman if she’s not using birth control this time.”

Bruce, very lovingly, did point out her hypocrisy now. “Talia, you were just inviting her into your harem. I feel like you’re projecting.”

“I would never turn a straight women even if they were truly beautiful. If they are happy settling, who am I to take that from them?”

“I don’t know for sure how Janet identifies, but I can say for sure that she’s slept with at least one woman,” he said. Talia looked delighted. “Apparently she was out of the running for paternity pretty soon, though.”

“I can work with that,” she declared and gently lowered herself to his lap. He took her added weight effortlessly, wrapping his arms around her to secure their precious cargo. She kissed him, long and sweet. Against his lips, she whispered, “I am angry. I know you do not place much value on blood ties, but I…”

“I know,” he whispered back, pressing his forehead against hers. “But thank you for trying.”

“I am,” she said. She tried to breathe through the lump forming in her throat, but pressed together like they were, Bruce must have known. “I do try. It doesn’t come easy for me, but I try.”

“You make the choice to be here with me every day. You’re working so hard and I see it, Talia, I do.”

She had no words for that, so she just curled against him as best she could with little Damian between them. Not the first of Bruce’s blood sons anymore, but the first of hers and cherished all the more for it.

#tim drake #bruce wayne #talia al ghul #janet drake #my writing tag #janet doesn't know yet but talia is already planning to make janet her little meow meow #bruce is the exception but talia strikes me as mostly a lesbian #fic: no choice but to love you

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whiskeynwriting · 2 years

Note

Limo sex after a party because Daddy Whiskey couldn’t wait til the hotel? 🥹 then continue at the hotel of course. 😉

Oh hell YES!!!

Out With the Old

Agent Daddy Whiskey x Female Reader

◆

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Alcohol consumption, mentions of reader’s hair, established relationship, size difference, jealousy, dirty talk, daddy kink (obviiiii), praise kink, spit kink, spanking, brief hair pulling, semi-public groping, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, brief cum play, mentions of bdsm dynamics

◆

A/N: So initially I was supposed to post “Life Is Better”, but “Out With the Old” got done first so enjoy this while I continue with “Life Is Better” lol. Ya girl is sick (yes AGAIN) so I’m trying my best. Hoping I get the second fic out to y’all tonight!

Lastly, this has not been beta-read. My apologies lol

◆

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Regardless of their true nature, their genuine brutality and extensive knowledge of sabotage and investigation, Statesman really knows how to throw a party. It’s like every year, they exceed your expectations and then some. After all, it was only an office holiday party, they didn’t need to go all-out, but they really loved to impress. Say what you want about Statesman, but these country boys have taste.

“You almost ready, honey?” Jack hollers, securing his watch.

“Almost!” Comes your returning call, readying yourself in the hotel bathroom.

“The car’s here, sweetheart. We gotta go.” While shouting back, he simultaneously makes his way over to you.

This year’s party was a city away from Louisville, about a two-hour drive. The hotel they booked was five-star with each of the agent’s rooms being paid off for the weekend. Due to the venue, a grand ballroom in the center of the city, Jack took you shopping the Friday before you left. He’d bought you a brand new gown for the event. Honestly though, even if the party were held at the office like it had been in years past, Jack still would’ve bought you a new dress.

With your hair down and makeup done, you slide in the dangly earrings you’d chosen, finishing your look. The silver of your jewelry matches the bright sparkles on your gown, the midnight blue allowing you to wear the night sky as glitter twinkles throughout the fabric. Your heels are a similar dark shade, as well as the handkerchief on Jack’s suit. You were matching perfectly, those words proving true as you look into the reflection to see him standing behind you.

“How long have you been standing there?” Grinning, you turn around, your lower back against the sink.

He shrugs, refusing to meet your eyeline as those warm orbs rake over your form. Smirking, he approaches you, one hand settling over the curve of your waist. Sighing, he shakes his head, licking his lower lip.

“Why do you do this to me, honey?”

Grinning, your hands lift to wrap around the back of his neck, thumbs stroking along his jawline. Now, he glances up, looking into your eyes.

“You’re gonna make me act like a fool in front of my whole company.”

A brief laugh escapes your lips, leaning in to brush your nose with his. “You act like a fool even when it’s just you and me.”

“You got me there.” Swooping his other arm around your lower back, he pulls you in, closing the gap.

If there was one thing Jack was known for in your relationship, it was quickies. He snuck those in whenever he got the chance. Before weddings, before family outings, hell, even before dates where you were sure to get into it the second you got back. He didn’t matter where you were going or how long you’d been together, he always wanted you. But you weren’t going to let him have you tonight, not before the party.

“Baby,” You insist, placing a hand on his chest to stop his frenzied kisses. “I just got done getting ready!”

“Please, honey.” He begs, turning to kiss your cheek, your jawline, making his way to your neck. “Why don’t you make daddy happy?”

Mumbling against your skin, his hands slide down to your back, lowering to secure his fingers around your plump curves. “Look so good in this tight little dress…”

“As much as I’d like to do that,” You coo to him, grabbing his chin and lifting him to look at you. “We have a party to attend.”

“Just real quick?” He pouts, those puppy-dog eyes boring into you.

“You guys have never been this fancy for your office holiday party.” You express, fingers stroking along his chin. “I don’t want you to mess up my makeup or dress.”

“Fine.” He finally returns, now pouting fully.

“C’mon, daddy.” Kissing his cheek, you stride toward your door. “I’ll make it up to you tonight.”

Truthfully, you wanted to keep your appearance neat. You plan on enjoying tonight but in the back of your mind, there’s a pinch of worry. It’s no secret Jack used to flirt with his coworkers, sleeping with at least a handful of them. That was before you, of course, but still, they circle like vultures. You know that Jack sees you as his prized possession whether you were sick in sweats or dressed to the nines on a red carpet, but you wanted to show your best self to these women. Remind them that you’re here to stay, that they lost their chance with him.

“It’s absolutely gorgeous!”

“Thank you, Maureen.” Smiling at the older woman, you find her to be incredibly refreshing. Some women at the company treated you like you were their own daughter, while others saw you as competition.

“Did you want this cut?” She asks, gazing at your ring.

“Absolutely!” Maureen was at your wedding, but only at the reception. “Jack really knows me.”

Even though most of the women surrounding you had been at your wedding, they still fawn over your ring. It was quite glamorous, dazzling on your hand and distracting everyone in the nearest vicinity.

“You should have seen her face when he put it on her finger.” Jess comments, grinning. “Everyone in that room was crying.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you give her a half hug, letting your head rest on her shoulder. While other women take turns holding your hand to view your ring, your eyes wander the room, looking for your beloved. It still surprises you how eager they are to see the piece of jewelry. You and Jack weren’t exactly newlyweds anymore, but still, it was exciting.

On the other side of the room is where you find him. Shocker, he’s at the bar. You’ve been here for thirty minutes and he’s already three shots in, surrounded by his own friends. But you don’t mind, you know he’ll order a limo to take the two of you home tonight. Plus, he’d already tended to you, kissing you on the cheek while handing you your favorite drink. He deserves to have fun with his friends, he shouldn’t always worry about caring for you. In fact, it’s nice to see him this way, relaxed and care-free.

“You’re lucky to have him, honey.” Another woman comments, her face sour in expression when you look up at her.

“Don’t I know it.” You respond, grinning sarcastically. She amuses you, grinning briefly and nodding.

An ex of Jack’s, if she can even be called that. Do one-night stands count as exes?

“Let me guess, a princess cut ring? For his princess?”

Tilting your head, you squint at her, grinning. “No, actually. It’s pear-shaped, and… Jack doesn’t call me his princess.” Laughing, you turn to Jess, rolling your eyes.

“Just another bird.” She mutters, with you returning beneath your breath, “Always circling.”

Her name is Miranda but you try not to directly address her. Even Maureen has gone out of her way to warn you about her. She’s a drama-starter, and not just when it comes to Jack. She’s the type of woman that expects a ring after a guy buys her a drink, ya know? The morning after she’d slept with Jack, she had the audacity to come into his office, demanding he take her out on a real date. She could take a class or two on how to approach a man. In fact… it looks like she’s taking a swing at that right now.

With your eyes glued to her frame, you watch as she turns, slowly approaching Jack. She makes a beeline for him, directly across the large room. And while you know she’s making her way over to talk to him, you don’t move. You know he can handle this. But lord, you wish you could be a fly on the wall near that conversation.

“Jack!”

When he hears his name, he turns, surprised to see her. They haven’t spoken in months, not since Champ took the liberty of moving her desk away from Jack’s office.

“Miranda…” He replies quietly, a little awkwardly.

Shuffling between a few of his coworkers, she sets herself up to stand right beside him, smiling. It’s ironic she’s chosen now to stop by. Jack just got finished bragging about you. He’d been telling his closest friends about his beautiful wife, how happy he is by your side. Whether it’s your looks or your brains, your personality or your experience, Jack always found something to brag about when it came to you. He may have even been boasting about a holiday vacation he had planned for the two of you…

Turning to the bartender, she orders two shots. One for her and apparently… one for Jack.

“Your favorite, right?” She asks, handing him the small glass.

“Uh, yeah…” He grins, amused by this. Taking it from her hand, he lifts it briefly in thanks before downing it. She doesn’t even get a chance to take her own before Jack’s swallowed his and is turning away.

“Wait,” Placing a hand on his shoulder, she pulls, turning him around.

With a firm sigh, he questions, “Yeah?”

“I wanted to congratulate you on your wedding.”

Raising his brows, he settles an elbow against the bar, facing her.“Really?”

“Yeah,” She nods, reaching out to stroke his forearm. And you see her do it, your face going red from rage. But you keep your cool, waiting to see what he’ll do.

“You looked so handsome in the pictures I saw.”

“Well, thanks.” He clears his throat, checking the time quickly. “Really, my wife’s the one that took everyone’s breath away.”

“I’m sure.” She easily dismisses this. “You know, she’s been around for quite some time. How long has it been? Two and… five?”

“What?” Jack asks, confused as he furrows his brows. But then he sees her sliding something toward him. A small, square card.

“Oh wait, that’s where I’m at.” She grins, watching him pick up the key to her room. “I’d love to see you again. Maybe later tonight?”

At this, Jack fully laughs. Handing it back, he asks, “What? Are you an escort now?”

His coworkers had been holding their tongues but at this, they can’t help but laugh. And her face burns bright red.

“Oh come on, Jack.” She replies, almost angrily. “You and I both know you get bored easily.” At her continuance, Jack’s smile fades, a stern expression replacing it. “Why don’t you shake things up a little, hm? You know what they say, out with the old…” Leaning forward, she takes one last shot, placing her hand over his own. “In with the new.”

Jack’s eyebrows shoot sky-high again, smirking at this. She takes his reaction as him being interested, but he’s only responding this way because of her foolishness. Reaching forward, he picks up the glass of water he’d ordered when he first got to the bar, taking a brief sip of it to clear his throat.

Smacking his lips, he returns his attention to her, his patience running thin. “Ain’t you the old one around here?” He then says, making her eyes widen. And he chuckles at this, pointing to her. “Remember you tried this whole act a few years ago, back before my sugar was even around.”

You can see Jack pointing at her, smiling. And you have half a mind to walk over there when Champ suddenly tugs on your arm, pulling you aside.

“Seems like you’re the old news.” Jack finishes with a wide grin. “Why don’t you go find somebody else to sleep with. My hands are pretty full tonight.” Lifting his left hand, he wiggles his fingers, that simple band shining beneath the bar’s overhead lights. With a jovial wink, he walks off, intent on finding you.

Even though he didn’t show it, the way that woman spoke to him is making his blood fucking boil. How dare she push you aside like that? The literal love of his life, being excused by a woman who barely ever had him. He definitely wasn’t having that. But his rambling thoughts subside when he finds himself lost. He swears you were just here, surrounded by this group of women.

“Jess,” He asks, walking over to her. “Where’d she go?”

Covering her laugh with the palm of her hand, she looks over at the dance floor, Jack’s gaze following along with her. And immediately, he groans. You gotta be shittin’ me.

Low and behold, there you are, just a few feet away. On the dance floor, with a man that’s not him. Right now, you’re dancing with Champ, but not to upset Jack. He’d finally got the chance to pull you into his side, insisting that he have your hand for a dance. Champ was always such a flirt, and while you both knew he was harmless, the timing of Jack seeing this couldn’t be worse. He was already feeling protective over you, and now, that’s only amplified.

The old tune you’re swaying to makes him sigh, rolling his eyes. He hasn’t even gotten the chance to dance with you tonight. You’re holding back an annoyed grin, but every now and then, a genuine smile slips through. And while Jack loves you and would do everything for you, he’s not going to make a scene in front of the entire company. So, he has to wait, unfortunately.

But while he watches you dance, he sees how gorgeous you truly are. Not that he didn’t see it every day, but it was almost like he’s gotten the opportunity to see you through other people’s eyes. And lord, you truly are a sight. The way you move gracefully across the floor, the way you keep a beat so easily, and the way you grin when Champ laughs that big belly chuckle makes Jack head swim with sin.

“Hey, baby!” Finally, your dance has come to an end. And if Jack weren’t here to distract you, Champ might’ve stolen a kiss on your hand.

“Come here,” Jack mutters, grabbing your hand.

“Babe?” You ask, concern coloring your features.

Another thing Jack was known for in your relationship? Pulling you into bathrooms.

“Why the fuck were you dancing with him?” He asks, turning to face you once locking the door behind him.

“I dunno,” Shrugging, you grin while he backs you up to a wall. “He just pulled me aside and, babe, he’s your boss. I didn’t want to outwardly say no to him.”

Truthfully, Jack isn’t mad at you. There’s just a flurry of emotions twisting inside him. And you know this.

Almost as soon as your back is against the wall, he’s feeling you, hands groping your form. Palms run over the curve of your waist, fingers grab at your backside and chest, and already, he’s breathing heavy.

“What’s got you all riled up, huh?” Grinning, you hold the back of his head, watching as he mouths at your chest. Incessant fingers pull at your neckline, revealing more of your plump skin.

Through a heavy sigh, he releases some of his frustration. “I don’t want you dancin’ with him again.” Swallowing thickly, he then tells you, “I know sooner or later he’ll try to sneak in a grab.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” Lifting his head, he leans in, kissing you. Those plush lips press firmly to your own, a quick breath forced out through his nose. “And I’m not lettin’ anybody touch you.”

“Oh yeah?” You tease, “Even though Miranda touched you?”

The way Jack clenches his jaw is visible, releasing another sigh. “I don’t want to speak ill of a woman,” He begins, shaking his head. “But she really tested my patience.”

“Really?”

Leaning in, Jack mouths at your ear, his hand lifting to the back of your head. Dipping lower, his mouth sucks on your neck, pelvis grinding into your hips as he says, “You think I’d let any woman approach me now that I have you?”

Grinning, a certain heat runs to your face. You’re flattered by him.

“Oh, baby…” He moans, pawing at your ass. “Please let me have you.” If he thought it was challenging to reject his arousal on the way here, it’s nothing compared to now. He fucking needs you, can’t keep himself away from you.

“You really want me that bad, huh, daddy?” And just like that, he’s whining, head dropping back down to your chest. He always liked to mouth at your tits while he begged.

“Sweetheart, you’re so pretty. You’re such an angel, baby.” He expresses, clearly inebriated and fawning over you, per usual. “All those women out there? They’re jealous of you.”

“They’re jealous because I have you.”

“Baby girl, you know -” Panting above your chest, he groans, licking the valley between your breasts. “You know I belong to you.”

The way he says it makes a pang of arousal shoot through you, your head tilting back with a quiet moan.

“And they know it, too. You know what I told her, you cute thing?” Jack’s voice dips when he says this, hugging your body to his. “I told her you’re my girl, my wife, my everything.”

If there was one thing for certain, it was that Jack is entirely, wholeheartedly, and genuinely, devoted to you.

“Really?” Lifting his face from your chest, you look into his eyes lovingly.

“Of course, baby.” His lips return then, tongue sliding into your mouth and running across your own. He tastes like bourbon and lemon, the fruit must have been in his drink.

One arm stays looped around your lower back while the other rises to your face, holding your jaw open for him. While licking inside, he groans, feeling one of your hands slither between your bodies. You’re stroking him through his pants, tongue tangling with his. But suddenly, you jump, body jolting from the sound of booming laughter back in the ballroom.

“Baby,” Breathing heavily against him, he’s still kissing you, mouthing at the corner of your lips and then your cheek and chin.

Groaning, he begs one more time. “At least let me have a sneak peak.”

“We can have some fun in the limo, baby. I promise.” But that’s not good enough for him, evidenced by his high whine. “We have to go back!” You respond through a full laugh, genuinely enjoying his attention.

“Do we?” He’s sucking on your tits again, trying desperately to free them.

“They’re gonna know we’re gone.”

“Why don’t we just leave?” He then suggests, those warm and affectionate eyes return to your own. They’re full of lust and excitement, and he grins when he says, “Just like our weddin’ night,” Brushing his hand along your cheek, eyes dipping down to admire your lips. “Remember?”

It takes little to no convincing for you to agree, Jack hauling you off the wall and grabbing your hand.

Surprisingly, it’s an easy escape, the two of you making it to the elevator easily. Your hand is in his the entire time, his fingers secured around you. When the elevator doors close, you expect him to be on you, pushing you up against the wall and covering you in kisses. But this time, he does something different.

Gentle lust takes over his mind, his adoration for you truly shining through. Turning, he wraps his arms around your midsection, pulling you into a hug. His handsome face rests in the crook of your neck, humming when he feels you lean into him.

Mumbling your name, he holds you a little tighter in his arms. And while placing tender kisses on your neck, he sighs dreamily. “You’re the love of my life, babycakes.”

The ride back to the hotel is full of nothing but passionate touches and tender moans. Jack is clearly drunk and babbling praise, brushing your hair aside as he watches you. As soon as the two of you climbed inside, you settled on your knees, wanting to please him. And obviously, he had no complaints.

“Babycakes…” He moans, watching you undo the belt and zipper on his pants.

“You are mine, daddy.” Comes your lovely voice, your sweet response. Reaching in, you find what you were stroking back in the bathroom. “Fuck, I love you…”

He doesn’t even have time to respond before you’re licking up the length of him, erection throbbing in your small hand. When you get to his tip, you swirl your tongue around it, sucking it inside and releasing it with a small pop.

“Baby,” Reaching forward, he puts both palms on either side of your face. “Come here, come here, sweet pea.”

Leaning up, you move with him, allowing him to bring you in. By the way he’s looking at your mouth, you know what he wants, and immediately open up. Quickly, he spits into your mouth, thumb coming up to rub the wetness of it on your tongue. And then, he does it again, earning a small mewl from the back of your throat.

“You’re precious,” He grins, hearing your little purr. But then his eyes travel lower, witnessing the rapid movement of your chest. “Take them out.”

Swallowing, you gasp when he reaches for your breasts. “What?”

“Take your tits out, right fuckin’ now.” His hands are fumbling over the neckline of your dress, fingers dipping over the edge and yanking your dress down. You let them plop out of the top of your gown, looking up at him with pretty eyes and a cute smile. “Fuck yes…” He’s mesmerized, leaning forward with thick and heavy breaths as he says, “Let daddy spit on them.”

And without another word, he does, swirling his tongue around in his mouth before the wetness of his saliva coats your chest. He uses his thumb to drag it across your chest, rubbing it into your nipples. The way he does it makes you whine, both of you looking down to watch him. And while he plays, you fucking ache, the space between your legs throbbing for him.

Grabbing your tits with both hands, he kneads them firmly before making eye contact. “These are mine.” He tells you. “Understand?”

Nodding quickly, you respond with, “Yes. Yes daddy, I understand.”

At that, he can’t help but bring you in for a heated kiss. His hand on the back of your neck pulls you close, lips meeting briefly because it’s really all teeth and tongue. He’s swapping spit with you, his tongue exploring you, before he’s yanking you back and shoving you down to your knees again.

“Put me back in your mouth, honey.” Shuffling back, he shifts his hips closer to you, one hand holding his base with the other on the back of your head.

Doing as he says, you lower yourself again, eyes closing as you engulf him. In one smooth slide, he’s hitting the back of your throat, hips shaking as he feels you moan.

“Look at that, look at your pretty face taking my cock.” He’s huffing out hot breaths, jaw open as he stares. With both hands he holds your face, stroking your hair while you drool over his lap.

You stay here for a while, his cock seated so deep in your throat that your chin is laying over his balls. He admires how well you take him, how you rarely cease to swallow him whole. Fisting your hair, he moves you back, bobbing your head, languidly sliding your mouth along his girth. Honestly, watching you go down on him was one of the sexiest things he could fathom. Seeing the love of his life, his wife, suck on his cock, watching your pretty lips envelope him, feeling your drool spill over his skin… that’s really what did it for him.

It takes about thirty minutes to get back to the hotel, and if you had it your way, Jack could have cum twice by then. But to your surprise, he takes things slow, not wanting to release just yet.

“Lick my balls, baby.” Immediately moving down, you complete his request, mouthing at him. “Jesus…” Closing his eyes, he tosses his head back. “Love when you do that.”

Glancing up, you make eye contact when he lowers his head. It makes him suck in a sharp gasp, the sight of it. While your mouth sucks on his scrotum, your hand jerks him off. Smooth and lazy tugs are what you give, squeezing his tip every time you get to it.

“Fuck,” Shaking his head, he reaches down again, fingers brushing through your beautiful hair. “You know, baby, daddy has a present for you.”

“A present? Really?” You ask, almost giddy.

“Mhm,” He nods, grinning. “I’ll tell you when we, when…” His mouth drops open again, feeling your talented lips drag over him. And then, you spit, watching it roll down his scrotum before witnessing you lick it up again. “Fuck.”

“My present, daddy?”

“At the hotel.” He swallows, head falling back once again. “I’ll tell you about it at the hotel.”

But he’s barely even able to get it out. When the car parks, you’re both stumbling up to your room, Jack closing and locking the door behind you. He’s already shrugging off his outer jacket when he turns to face you, smiling in his tipsy state as he watches you lay on the bed.

“Oh, baby…” While walking over to you, he undoes his tie, eyes raking over your form. “I don’t know if you’ve ever done that for me.”

“What?” Tilting your head to the side, you glance up at him, connecting your lips when he’s close enough for it.

“Blown me in a limousine.” He’s smiling wildly, sliding the straps of your dress down your shoulders.

“Yeah?” Giggling quietly, you watch his eyes get lost as he gazes at your smooth skin. “Does that mean I get to know about my surprise?”

Without missing a beat, Jack tells you, “I’m taking you to Italy.”

“What?” Sitting up a bit straighter in shock, you absentmindedly push him back. “Really?!”

With a firm hand, he shoves you down on the bed, earning a surprised huff from your pretty lips. Now, he’s yanking the fabric down your body, mouth returning to your chest.

“Are you serious?” You further pry, eyes following the movements of his large hands as he undresses you. The only thing beneath your dress was a black thong, and he slipped that off in a heartbeat. In less than ten seconds, you’re completely naked for him.

“As a heart attack, honey bee.”

“Daddy!” It’s a happy squeal, that beautiful smile returning.

“You know how I love to spoil you, baby.” Both hands are on your breasts, his covered pelvis grinding into your naked sex.

“Oh my gosh! When are we going?! Where?! For how long?!”

Lifting himself with a grunt, he sighs, looking into your eyes. “We’ll be gone for the holidays, babycakes…” And then he leans down, pressing his lips tenderly along your neck. “For a little over a week.”

“Baby, I’m so excited!” You can’t seem to get over this, can’t seem to pull yourself back to your lustful, dreamy state that Jack is still very much in.

“Yeah? Too excited to show me some love?” Jack asks, his voice dipping low while he nibbles on your earlobe. That seems to be all you need.

Turning your head, you meet his lips, feeling his tongue dive inside. He rubs it over your own, deeply, sensually, his heated breaths picking up their pace. His hands leave you then, moving to unbutton his dress shirt and shove it off his torso. His belt is next, and then his pants, kicking off his socks and quickly crawling on top of you.

“Can I have you now, sweet cheeks?” He asks, kissing along your jaw. “Please?”

“Yes, daddy. Yes, please.” Reaching up, you hold his gorgeous face, fingers sliding through his mocha-toned hair.

By the way he’s been begging for you practically all night, you expect him to take you right here, to slide into you in one thrust. But he doesn’t.

“Turn around,” Already, his hands are on your hips, moving you. “Get your hips in the air.”

Usually, when Jack was drunk, he was lovey. He was sweet and soft and giggly, and every time you saw him like that, it made you melt. But that’s not how he seems to be tonight. Tonight, it’s like he needs you; needs to feel you beneath his body, melting from his touch, screaming his name and crying pleasurably from his love.

“You’re already so wet, baby.” Running a finger up your slit, he sighs. “That’s what I like to see.”

“I know, daddy.” Your face is already pressed into the covers, resting down on your forearms with your hips up high for him. “I loved it…”

“Loved what, honey?” He’s situating himself behind you, resting on his knees and smoothing his palms over your ass.

“Sucking you off,” Releasing a breath, you whine. “Back in the limo.”

“Oh, you liked that, huh?” Further behind your bent form, he’s grinning, running his tip over your sex. “Maybe you should treat me to it more often.”

Immediately, your first thought is, well, how often are we in a limousine? But you can’t even get the words out before he’s audibly spitting and pushing himself into you. It makes you gasp, the force he uses, bottoming out inside you with only one thrust.

“Fuck!” Tossing his head back, he sighs, dominant hand smacking your outer thigh. “You’re always so warm for me, sweetheart. So warm and tight.”

The same hand he used to smack you smoothes over your back, applying pressure to keep you down as he shifts his hips back. “So inviting… just begging me to slide inside.”

“Daddy,” Already, your fingers are reaching for the sheets, walls pulsing around the intrusion of him. No matter how many times you take him, you’re always surprised by his strength, his girth, and the way he uses it with you.

When he hears your little whine, instead of slowing down, it only makes him more feral inside. Within his first five thrusts, his hips are slapping against your ass, one of your hands reaching behind to scratch at his thigh.

“F-Fuck, baby!” Gasping into the sheets, you feel his tip punch against that sweet spot inside. He’s gotten too good at finding it. “Slow down, please. Oh my god, slow down, baby.”

Shushing you, he says through hurried breaths, “It’s fine, baby. You’re fine…”

Diving into you even harder, he punches the breath from your lungs, rocking the bed from his force. Swatting your hand away, he secures both of his to your hips, fingers digging in. Looking down, he watches your beautiful curves bounce against him,

“You need to use your safe word, sweet thing?”

Not even a second goes by before you’re saying, “No! No, daddy. No, I love it…”

“Yeah,” He grins, shaking his head. “I had a feeling you did.”

His pelvis is still wet from the slobber you left on his cock, aiding in the smooth slide of his thrusts. And even though you didn’t get a chance to see his naked body tonight, feeling it is just as thrilling if not more. His hands never leave your skin, roaming your curves and caressing the dips along your hips. His thighs press into the backs of your own, warm and sturdy and firm, just like they’ve always been. And he’s using the strength of them to pound you into the mattress, shoving your plaint form further down beneath him. Protecting you, owning you, and he wishes all those women could see it. He wishes Champ could see it, too.

“Don’t dance with him again.” Hauling you up, he presses your back to his chest, securing an arm around your midsection. Turning his head, he sucks on your neck, groaning when your hips roll back against him.

“Champ?”

“Don’t say that fucker’s name while we’re in bed.”

“Okay, daddy.” Nodding, you let your head drop to the side, licking your lower lips as he reaches down to rub your clit.

“I needed you, babycakes. Needed you so bad tonight.” Brows folding up in the middle, he whines against you, grinding his hips into your backside.

“I know you did, baby.” Reaching around, your hand finds his hair, fingers combing through his locks.

“I’m sorry babycakes, daddy just can’t help himself around you.”

“Oh, fuck… I love it.” You feel like you could collapse, feeling him surround you like this, feeling him claim your very being all over again. “I love it, I love how fucking feral you are for me.” Rolling your eyes back, you inhale a large breath, trying to steady yourself by grabbing onto the forearm wrapped around your midsection.

“Huh, that’s quite the sentence, sugar peach. I must not be fuckin’ you hard enough.”

Releasing you of his hold, he shoves you down again, intent on making you delirious from his influence. Like he never missed a beat, he’s shoving himself into you again, both hands gripping your cheeks before his dominant hand spanks one of them.

Honestly, you’re shocked, genuinely shocked that he still has his wits about him to this degree. When you got back to your hotel room, you thought you’d ride him, make him cum inside you while you kissed all over his cheeks. But hell, you’re fine with this too, more than fine with it. To see those women look at Jack like he was a prize to be won made you furious. But knowing this is what he had in store for you later in the night made those immature worries fizzle away. He really is yours, for eternity.

“Fuck,” He spits out. “You’re gonna make me fucking cum.”

You hum happily at this, a lazy smile forming on your blissed-out face. “Already?”

“Jesus Christ,” His heart is pounding, he’s already sweating. “You have such a tight little hole.”

You wish so desperately that you could see his handsome face, stroke his clean jawline and look into his eyes while he spilled inside. But honestly, you’re too love-drunk to even comprehend doing that right now. All you can do is let go, let go and allow yourself to feel the wonderful sensations he gives to you. It’s almost like you’re numb, the euphoria completely overpowering you.

“I want it,” Comes your dreamy sigh. “Want your cum, daddy.”

Rapidly, he nods, his jaw dropping. He can feel your heated walls squeezing around him, can feel your sex sucking him back inside every time he leaves, even for only a second. “Daddy-Daddy’s gonna cum, okay?”

“Okay,” Comes your muffled cry, face still buried in the sheets.

Your husband thinks back to the way Champ held you while you danced, his hand in yours with the other on your lower back. The fucking nerve of that man. If only he knew what Jack did to you, what he could make you do. If only he could see you right now, calling out for your daddy, begging for him to fill your insides. But he already let one man see you like this, and he’s never doing that again.

“Where do you want daddy’s cum, angel?” He knows where you want it, he just needs to hear you say it. “Do you want it inside? Do you want daddy’s cum inside your pretty little pussy?”

“Yes, yes please.” Rocking back against him, you’re both verbally and physically begging for his release. Not that you wanted this to end, honestly, you’ll probably ask him to go again. “Inside me…”

“Fuck.” Whiskey repeats, his head and body absolutely swimming in ecstasy. Blunt fingernails trail down your back, the red marks he leaves making him grin. His other hand stays glued to your hip, allowing him to steady himself as he loses the fluid pace he’d originally created.

“Yeah baby,” He then huffs out, his tip throbbing against your deepest parts. “Take my cum, babycakes.” His entire body jolts, leaning over you as he groans. “Gonna gi – gonna give you all of it. All of it.”

His hips stutter, his delirious moan bursting out from his chest and through those pillowy-soft lips. And you’re whining into the sheets, writhing beneath the heavy weight of him as he presses into you.

“Honey, I’m so sorry.”

His words make you frown. Inhaling a breath, you turn your head. “For what, baby?”

“I didn’t,” And then he takes a second to breathe, swallowing. “I didn’t make you cum.”

“Baby, it’s -”

“Let me do it on my tongue.”

“Daddy,” He’s sliding out of you so quickly that it hurts, that subtle sting resonating through your hips from his girth.

Dragging you down the bed are the strength of his hands, securing around your ankles while he kneels at the end of the bedspread. But before putting his mouth on you, he flips you onto your back.

“Let me see that pretty face.” His deep, raspy voice requests. And he smiles when you lift your head.

Leaning back on your forearms, you watch with bated breath as he lifts your legs, letting the rest on his shoulders. While keeping your gaze, he moves in, kissing your thigh’s sensitive skin.

“Baby,” You’re trying to get his attention, but he ignores it. “I wanna talk, talk to you.”

Closing his eyes, his head dips down, tongue laying out. It runs up through your folds, now leaking with him. Jesus, he’s so enamored with you.

“Jack.”

But he’s too distracted, moaning at your combined taste as his tongue swipes through your delicate sex. Both hands run over your thighs, gripping the sweet flesh with those thick and talented digits.

Reaching down, you run your fingers through his clean-styled hair, curling them around the dark strands and yanking him away from your sex. He releases you with a grunt, mouth hanging open as he exudes thick and heavy breaths. Now, you have his attention.

“So,” You finally say, smiling further up on the bed while you too, catch your breath. “You’re taking me to Italy?”

#yayayay #it's Daddycember again!#Daddycember #Daddycember '22 #Daddycember 2022 #Daddy #Daddy Whiskey #Agent Daddy Whiskey #Agent Whiskey #Agent Whiskey x you #Agent Whiskey x reader #Agent Whiskey x female reader

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